


Amalgam!verse

by djinmer4



Category: Amalgam Comics
Genre: Age Difference, Double Penetration, F/M, Height Kink, Kitty Pryde/Kurt Ryder, Nightcreeper - Freeform, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-09-21 18:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 40,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17048603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djinmer4/pseuds/djinmer4
Summary: An attempt at writing a Kurtty fic in the Amalgam Universe.





	1. Beware the Creeper

_AKA 2 Actors in New Gotham’s Underground Finally Meet_

When the local movie flickered off and the black-and-white old-style images popped up, Logan and Jubilation didn’t bother to wait. Instead, they headed to the Barrow to get into their uniforms and fire up the Clawmobile. Alfred could call them and give the location of the Hyena’s newest scheme once they were on the road.

* * *

“Good evening sluts and germs! Tonight on channel H, we are going to give you the exclusive backstory of the most nefarious, unoriginal and badly-dressed wacko to ever grace Gotham City! That’s right, we are going to explore the origins of-” The Hyena pointed his microphone at his minions, who were currently operating the cameras and recording equipment. Only one, a rather fragile-looking damsel in a blue harlequin leotard with a short blue tutu skirt answered.

“Dark Claw?”

“No, stupid Colombina! Dark Claw’s my biggest fan, but I’m afraid when it comes to metahuman powers, he’s on the shallow side of the dream pool. No, I’m talking about a real threat, the one the only-” At this point the Hyena’s monologue was interrupted by Dark Claw and Sparrow crashing through one of the factory skylights, landing right on two of the film crew. The one Dark Claw landed on was clearly knocked out, while Sparrow’s was shaken, but got up again after a few moments. “And look who just appeared! A pleasure to meet my fans again but I’m afraid you’re ruining the show!”

Sparrow braced herself, shifting into an attack position but before she could do anything, Dark Claw stepped in front of her and gestured that the teenager stand down. “Oh, don’t worry Quinn, we’re not here to interrupt your program.”

“We’re not?” asked Sparrow.

“You’re not?” asked the equally young woman holding the Hyena’s camera.

“Nope.” With that, Dark Claw pulled out a bag of self-popping popcorn and ripped it open. “We’re here to see the star of the show.”

Suddenly, manic laughter filled the air. Hyena and his minions looked around wildly, trying to locate the source. The camera girl just looked confused, Dark Claw smug, and Sparrow face-palmed.

“Come now, Quinn. You were doing a documentary on his backstory, did you really expect him not to show up?”

The Hyena was retreating, backing up towards the door that his crew had arrived in. “Err, Compy, you stall them. I’ll get the car.” With that, the green-haired lunatic ran away. Confused, the others put down the recording equipment. The small woman just shrugged, then put a whistle to her lips and blew.

Two of the thugs ran after Sparrow while the third grabbed a crowbar and took a swing at Dark Claw. Bad for him, he missed and hit a support pillar instead. That was all the opening Dark Claw needed. One hit to the solar plexus, followed by three more to break ribs, and that goon was down for the count.

Sparrow wasn’t doing quite so well. One of the thugs had grabbed her cape and used it to knock her off balance. She was down on her stomach, with the thug on top, pulling her head back by her hair and reaching around with a knife. Dark Claw got there barely in time, using a sliding kick to knock the goon away from his apprentice.

Seeing two of the incompetent minions down, the blue-clad girl grabbed a tripod and swung at Dark Claw’s head. Now it was his turn to go down, but he had bought enough time for Sparrow to see where the Hyena had run off to. Abandoning the lesser game, she raced after him. Unfortunately she was easily spotted and the Hyena responded by tossing a lit match into a nearby vat of chemicals.

“Fire!” screamed Sparrow and jumped out the window. She was quickly copied by the female minion, the one thug that was still standing, and Dark Claw, after he had tossed the two other goons out as well.

There was a brief pause as all the combatants stared at the burning factory. Then the same wild laughter filled the air again. The remaining male minion blanched and pulled out an assault rifle. “I’m not getting taken in again!” he shouted, and started spraying the others with bullets. Sparrow quickly dived behind a low brick wall, while Dark Claw tossed the two immobile mooks behind some cover. Surprisingly Colombina hadn’t bothered to dodge either, instead she was … letting the bullets pass through her? “Showoff,” grumbled Sparrow.

CRUNCH! “Heeheehahaha!” The brightly-colored sidekick took a moment to peek out at the scene. A tall, green-skinned man, dressed in a red thong and boa had casually lifted the shooter with one hand. The other hand was crushing the gun, easily breaking it down into a pile of debris. As she watched, one of the other goons had gotten up again, and raced up, telegraphing a punch. Without even looking a green tail snaked out and whacked the goon in the head, knocking him unconscious. “No fear, citizens, the cavalry has arrived!”

“Oh God no!” moaned the Hyena. “Colombina, take down that lunatic!” With that, the psychopath jumped into his car and sped away.

The new arrival tossed the erstwhile shooter towards the car, but Dark Claw grabbed him before he could get hit. Meanwhile the petite villianess thrown a few punches and kicks at Hyena’s nemesis. They were easily dodged, but attracted the giggling man’s attention. “And what’s your name,  _liebchen_?” he purred, clearly amused at her futile attempt.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to ask someone’s name without giving your own, creep?” With that, she flipped her skirt up, revealing a utility belt and holster, pulled her pistol and fired twice at his naked chest.

“ _Night_ creep _er”_ the maniac emphasized, laughing when the bullets flattened themselves against impenetrable skin.

Surprised, she continued firing until she had emptied the clip completely. Discarding the gun as a bad job, she started backing up. “What do you want?” she asked.

Nightcreeper crowed, “The lowdown on the Hyena’s hideout,  _na sicher_!” He then dropped his voice to a more seductive tone. “And your phone number.” He crept closer, using parkour to slide over and around various crates on the factory dock.

The henchwoman bumped against a crane. “You are agile, I’ll give you that.”

“Oh, and what else will you give me?”

“Come closer and find out.” With that, she button mashed the crane controls, dropping a heavy crate on the green man. “Nothing better than some bulky luggage to give someone the brush off.” Colombina ran off then, phasing through some of the crates to give Dark Claw and Sparrow the slip.

The two superheroes had spent a few minutes restraining the Hyena’s goons and trying to see which direction he had drove off to. As such, they’d only arrived in time to see Colombina try to kill Nightcreeper with the crate. “We have to get him out.” said Dark Claw.

“You know he’s gonna be just fine, right?” snarked Sparrow. Indeed, as soon as they’d cleared the boards to see the heavy statue, Nightcreeper started punching his way out of it, completely unharmed. “My, I do love a girl who’s feisty!”

“But she just tried to kill you!” exclaimed the Asian teen.

“You’re young. You’ll get it when you’re older.” He ruffled her hair and finished freeing himself from the statue. “Now  _lieblinge_ , I suggest you follow the Hyena while I chase the  _kinder_.”

“And what makes you think that’s such a good idea?” asked Dark Claw.

“Because you brought a car today and I didn’t. Now: Exit stage left, pursued by Nightcreeper!” With that, the nearly-naked man bounded off.

* * *

The inevitable explosion eventually tipped of Dark Claw and Sparrow to the location of the Hyena, Colombina and Nightcreeper. They got their just in time to see the two villains tear out of their hideout in a clown float, with Nightcreeper hanging on. They careened around wildly, with the surrounding environment and civilians only saved by Colombina constantly phasing them through everything. Meanwhile Nightcreeper fought with the Hyena on top of the float.

The hero would throw a punch then teleport away, laughing all the time as the Hyena grew increasingly frantic. Finally he bamfed up above the psychopath’s head, dropping down to land on his shoulders, driving the Hyena face first into the car. That caused Colombina to swerve off into a gully, ironically crashing into the same ACE Chemicals dock that they had all left not an hour ago.

The Nightcreeper lifted the Hyena up, then drove his elbow into the man’s kidneys. He tossed him down, so that the villain landed just short of where the Clawmobile had parked. The violent psychopath looked up at Dark Claw, then clutched at his cape. “You’ve got to get me away from that maniac!” Claw just knocked him out with an elephant tranquilizer (kept just for these situations), then handcuffed him.

Sparrow made her way up to where Nightcreeper was flirting with the still dizzy Colombina. “Ah, did  _liebchen_  get an owie?”

“Did you get a concussion?”

“Come on  _kinder,_ tell us your story. What’s a nice  _madchen_  like you doing with a lunatic like the Hyena?”

Colombina looked over tiredly at Sparrow. “I surrender.”

She paused, unable to process what she was hearing. “You do?” They’d captured the Hyena a few times, although he never stayed locked away for very long. But they’d never captured Colombina before, her mutant ability made it almost impossible to keep her restrained. If she was surrendering voluntarily … “What made you change your mind?”

Colombina looked over at the giggling maniac. “This is the first time I’ve seen the Hyena scared of anyone. If he’s scared, maybe I have a chance to get free this time.”

Well that put an interesting spin on the relationship. Sparrow snapped a pair of (useless) handcuffs on her wrists. Nightcreeper got up to follow them, but the sound of sirens had Dark Claw shooing him away.

“Do look after  _fraulein_  Colombina,  _mein freund._  I think there’s more to this story than we think.”

Dark Claw stared after his ally. Seeing Nightcreeper concerned about a criminal … this was going to be interesting.


	2. Origins

_Seven years before ‘Beware the Creeper’._

“Date: November 28, time … “ Kurt Ryder glanced away from his tape recorder to look at his watch but realized it was too dark to see the face. “Sometime after 10 PM. Location: ACE Chemicals Dockside Warehouse. I’m currently following a tip about a meeting between representatives of the Deacons gang and the Falcone family.” No lights were on, but the warehouse was dimly lit by bubbling tanks of chemicals. The glow was enough for Ryder to read the labels on the tanks next to him. Nitrous oxide and salvia extract. “Note to self: Investigate ACE Chemicals for links to the Hyena and the Scarecrow later. Or at least for OSHA violations.”

Hearing his quarry enter, he shut up and slinked forward. He had a couple of video cameras and recorders planted around the area, plus was carrying a minicam and his tape recorder. He doubted he was going to get anything important, but proof of the meeting could be used to tip off the police and jump his career ahead. Reality-star, former Olympic athlete and current junior reporter were good starts, but he wanted a career in media, not just be a flash in the pan.

Peering over a wall, he saw Sly Tolliver speaking to an unknown Sullivan lackey. Kurt grinned but was careful not to let his teeth catch the light. He got even closer, trying to hear what was being said.

“Is this all your men?” asked Sly.

“One got delayed by his day job. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Unacceptable. You were told quite clearly that we would only accept-”

“ _Youse_  the ones who are early. He’s still got a few minutes.”

“Very well.” Sly was clearly uncomfortable with the setback but was continuing anyway. “Given that the Falcones are coming to the negotiation from the superior position, the Deacons would like a show of good faith before going any further.”

“We ain’t given you hostages.”

“Not hostages. Perhaps one joint mission performed  _gratis_.”

“You’ve got a target, then I’m listening.” Kurt crept closer, switching on the recorder to catch the name of the target. He also raised the minicam, making sure he wasn’t visible to the gangsters below, trying to catch an image of Sly Tolliver’s face. A strand of curly black hair fell into his face, he blew it away.

As he sidled closer, Kurt forgot one vital point. While still hidden from the figures below, he was clearly visible to anyone entering from the offices along the side. And the Sullivan lackey had earlier stated that they were still waiting for one of their numbers.

“Hey!” Knowing the game was up, Kurt turned and lashed out, kicking the late goon in the side. The man went down, but the noise alerted the rest of the criminals.

“Lar, is that you?” The Sullivan gestured to the side, sending his two other bodyguards up to investigate the sound.

“Your late minion?”

“And an intruder I’m thinking.” Ryder ran, then cursed himself for running. The entrance he’d used was all the way on the other side of the warehouse, and most of the others were manned by the entourages of the criminals. The one that  _Lar_  had entered wasn’t but it was locked. The goon must have had the key on him, and if Kurt had been thinking, he could have grabbed it and gotten out of here. As it was, he hit the door twice, denting it but not enough to break either the door body, hinges or lock. He tried to make his way around the highest catwalk but was quickly cornered by one of the Sullivan goons, and three Deacon heavies.

Kurt Ryder was in exceptional physical condition. Growing up, his foster family had been part of a circus, and Kurt had been an acrobat since he was in his single digits. As he got older, he had taken up fencing and gymnastics, and those pursuits had eventually won him a college scholarship and a spot on the Olympics team (substitute only, and he hadn’t gotten anywhere near a medal). Even now, while he wasn’t his best, he was still in better shape than the four goons that cornered him.

Of course, none of that made a difference since they had guns. And tasers.

When Kurt opened his blue eyes again, he was being restrained above one of the bubbling chemical pools. A hefty Deacon held both of his arms behind his back and was tall enough that Kurt was barely on his toes. Sly Tolliver and the Sullivan lackey were arguing about him; the Sullivan was in favor of shooting him and dumping him in the harbor, Tolliver wanted to question him to see how he had learned about the meeting, and if there were any other cameras or recorders in the area. And then shoot him and dump him in the harbor.

The argument came to an abrupt halt when a large shadow smashed through a door (ironically, the same one Lar had come through), and almost incidentally smashed the goon guarding the door.

“Dark Claw,” snarled the Sullivan. “Y’all tase the fool and dump him.” Kurt struggled, but another hit of the taser left his muscles twitching and him helpless. Unable to stop them, two more thugs lifted him and tossed him bodily into a vat of mixed chemicals.

“Lark, rescue the reporter. I’ll handle these guys.”

The last thing he saw was Dark Claw soaking up bullets fired from Tolliver’s bodyguards, and the sidekick (in flamboyant blue and purple tights) swinging from a grapple. He tried to reach out to the young acrobat.

The miss was by more than five feet.

* * *

Dark Claw and Lark were in a very low mood as they returned to the Burrow. Despite detaining all of the Sullivan and Deacon thugs and finding Ryder’s recording equipment, they hadn’t been able to rescue Kurt Ryder. In the middle of the fight, Sly Tolliver had pulled the emergency flush on the tank, draining the whole thing into the harbor. When Dark Claw and Lark had gotten out, all they had seen was Ryder’s hooded jacket, dissolving in the chemical melange. The two hadn’t any hope for the reporter’s survival.

Before they were half-way through the ride home, Alfred called. “Sir, I know what you said earlier, but something very strange has occurred.”

“Spit it out, Alfred.”

“Not half an hour ago, someone made a purchase at Ditko’s Thrift Shop using Kurt Ryder’s credit card.” Dark Claw swerved the car around and headed for the edge of the commercial district.

“You think?”

“I’ve seen stranger things.”

* * *

When Kurt came to his senses, he realized he was wandering around the back alleys of New Gotham. Not so much wandering, as swinging and jumping, moving from one lamppost to another without ever touching the ground. He giggled. “Asphalt is lava! First one who touches the floor loses!” It felt so natural to do this, rather than simply walking on the road like everyone else. As he flew past a window he noticed something strange.

Stopping for a moment, he hung upside down from the streetlamp. He peered at his reflection, ignoring the panicked screams of a woman on the other side of the glass. “Don’t worry,  _fraulein_ , I only want to borrow your mirror.”

“Get away, you creep!” He tilted his head to avoid the thrown bottle and continued to examine his image. Green hair. Green skin. Green fur? Something struck him as being unusual, but he couldn’t focus enough to identify what it was. Absently lifted the bottle and set it on the sill, unwinding his tail from it as he continued on his way. He didn’t know where he was going but … he looked at the rags that covered him. “First, a makeover!”

The shop quickly cleared when he swung through the door, sticking the landing perfectly. “Got anything that matches,  _schatz_?”

Wordlessly, the clerk held out a green thong. Quickly changing, Kurt added some red, fur-lined pixie boots and gloves, and topped it with a red fur boa, all from a nearby mannequin. “Paper or plastic?” asked the clerk.

“Plastic!”

* * *

As Kurt continued to wander, he made his way to the seedier side of New Gotham. He sang pop tunes as he continued to jump from streetlight to roof to car, not caring about the attention he was attracting. “Get down from there you creep!” shouted one tuxedo-ed gentleman, pointing his umbrella at him. Ryder just giggled at him. The laugh was loud and maniacal, sounding more like it came from a demon than a human throat. A dull thud at his chest made him laugh even harder. The man blanched and backed away, hands and umbrella shaking, even as the acrobat cartwheeled away from his car, onto a slim molding of a building.

As Kurt slipped from the main street to a back alley he came upon a muscled thug being menaced by some hobo in ragged clothes and a wide-brimmed hat. The thug was a little shorter but three times thicker than the hobo appeared to be cowering away. From Ryder’s perspective, he could see the gun, well within reach of the thug but abandoned. As the hobo stooped to pick up the gun (and a stack of money), the light managed to catch on the hobo’s … not face, but rather a strange mask.

He knew that mask. He had done an interview with it, once with the man below the mask, and once after it had been donned.

The hobo was speaking to the thug. “A little fear can be a good thing. Keeps us safe. Stops us from doing stupid things, such as mugging the-”

“Scarecrow!” Ryder’s delighted naming mixed with the villain’s self-identification. The criminal looked up, turned back to his victim, then did a double take. Kurt supposed he did make a sight, a furry green man standing upside down on a fire escape, supported by a spade tail. “Now, now, who’s being a naughty boy after escaping from Arkham again?”

Flatly the Scarecrow replied. “I don’t recognize you, but I suppose there are more things in Heaven and Earth than ever dreamed of in philosophy books. In any case, I suppose this minion isn’t the only one who needs a lesson in non-interference.” With that, the man lifted one emaciated arm and sprayed something directly into Ryder’s face.

After a minute, Kurt spoke up. “Sorry, was that supposed to do something?”

The taller man backed away. “What? How are you neutralizing the effects of my fear gas?”

“Your  _wenig_  dispenser isn’t doing much.” Kurt really wanted to give the man a good scare. Dr. Crane had been a good teacher in college. It had been disappointing to see him leave, worse to see what he had become. A little payback would be just the thing. Before he could pull together a more coherent thought, the Kurt found himself behind the Crane, as the older man stared at a sulfurous cloud in bewilderment. The green man leaned up and whispered “Boo!” right into the Scarecrow’s ear, then laughed at the joke.

The villain jumped away, spinning to look back at Ryder. “How did you do that?” Kurt shrugged; trying to focus to answer that question made his head hurt. “It’s quite the creepy little ability, isn’t it?”

“That’s the  _dritte_  time I’ve been called creepy this evening. But it needs a bit more spice.” He lifted his eyes to watch the play of lights overhead. “Creep, creep … ah, I’ve got it! Nightcreeper! That has a much better ring to it!” Meanwhile, the Scarecrow had started slinking out of the alley and probably would have gotten away from the distracted Nightcreeper.

Of course, that was when Lark and Dark Claw showed up.

* * *

“If you don’t want this to happen again, keep the patch on. I’ll try to think of something more permanent in the future.” warned Dark Claw.

“I don’t understand,” said Kurt Ryder. “Where did the tail and the fur come from?”

“Mutation can produce some very unusual effects.” explained the gloomy hero. “Where does the energy for Apollo’s optic blasts come from? How can Wraith possibly shift into a kinetic shadow? Are there any real limits to the White Witch’s power?” He shook his cowled head. “Just accept that your new ability makes you grow fur and a tail, along with the ability to teleport. Hopefully, we can get this under control so you won’t have to worry about it in the future.” With that, New Gotham’s dark knight started to rappel down from Ryder’s balcony.

Lark lingered for a second. “What was it like?” she asked wistfully.

“It was,” he hesitated for a moment. “Freeing.” She nodded, then fired her grappling hook to swing away, taking a faster route than Dark Claw.

Kurt looked down at the patch that kept him as Ryder and not Nightcreeper. He thought of the evening, thought of the squashed bullet he had found in the boa. He thought of how he had managed to delay the Scarecrow, long enough for Lark and Dark Claw to show up to rescue the victim.

Maybe Nightcreeper meant more than just the end of his fledgling career.


	3. Freedom

_Eighteen months before ‘Beware the Creeper’._

Her name was Kitty Pryde, not W-24.  She had grown up in Chicago, not this desolate Canadian plain.  She had been loved and adored as an only child could be.  Two years ago she’d been looking forward to having her bat mitzvah and starting to notice boys.   _She was not a weapon_.

Or at least that’s what she told herself.  She thought it had been about two years since she’d been kidnapped, tortured and forced to become one for whatever shadowy, M.I.B. agency this was.  She didn’t know if they were some branch of a government, a terrorist group or some private super-rich organization.  It didn’t matter, so she wasn’t told.   _She_ didn’t matter.

A loud siren went off, and the lights started flashing red.  Kitty looked up as the door to her cell was opened.  The helmeted soldier jerked his head at her.  “Wake up, Xxiv.  We’ve got an intruder and the head wants you to handle him.”  The young teenager briefly contemplated killing the mook and escaping, but the shock prod in his hand and his backup with the taser convinced her it would have been a bad idea.  Instead, she just nodded.

They guided her up into a large, empty chamber and left her there.  She recognized it as one of the choke points, where all traffic in or out of the site had to pass through.  Normally it was filled with people and equipment, today it had been abandoned except for her.  She could see loose papers flapping to the floor and there was still steam rising from a couple of coffee cups.

Kitty shivered and wished they had at least let her put on some clothes.  Apparently, since her ability prevented her from most types of harm, the supervisors of this project had decided not to provide her with armor.  And if she didn’t need armor, well then she didn’t get clothes unless she was on a mission.  All she was given was an ill-fitting shift, that gaped at the top and barely reached the top of her thighs.  Damn pervert scientists.

An explosion blew in the locked door, and Kitty allowed the debris to phase through her.  The intruder who strutted in was a tall, powerfully-built man, with green hair, leather S&M garb, and KISS-style makeup.  Once he saw her, he stopped and stared.  “Hello, sweetheart.  Guess you’re the newest sacrificial goat for Department K?”

Kitty didn’t bother responding.  He was probably right anyway.  Instead, she ran, phasing through the trash and obstacles on the floor.  She lifted her right hand, aiming for his heart when-

THUMP!

She rebounded.  Kitty tripped and fell backward, her hands coming up to check on her nose and face.  Nothing was broken, but everything bruised.  What had happened?

The intruder didn’t bother to attack, instead watching her with a psychotic, amused smile on his face.  “Was that supposed to do anything?”

“Yes,” she struggled to get to her feet.  Once there, she dropped into a  _hachiji dachi_  stance.  When he continued to make no moves against her, she rushed him again, this time stepping off to the side, to attack his ribs.

WHAM!

Again she was rebuffed.  She hadn’t even made it to his chest, instead being stopped by something in his arm.  At least it hadn’t been a complete waste; she had been prepared this time so she wasn’t stunned.  She had also seen the detonator he’d been carrying, and managed to phase through it on her back step.  He wasn’t dead yet, but he wouldn’t be setting off any more bombs either.

Unfortunately, he’d noticed what happened as well.  After looking down at the useless, sparking controller, he shrugged and tossed it over his shoulder.  “Interesting little trick you’ve got there.  Let me guess … some sort of intangibility?”

She refused to say anything but started backing up.

“And I bet your gimmick doesn’t work on adamantium.”  He tapped his naked chest.  “Sorry kitten, my bones are bonded with it.”

Well, fuck.  What was she supposed to do?  Phase his intestines out and hope he didn’t kill her when she had to breath?  Try to squeeze his heart out through his rib cage?

“Looks like someone’s outlived her usefulness.”

Yeah, she knew that too.  He didn’t have to rub it in.

She slumped down and started crying.  Kitty hadn’t let herself shed any tears for months now.  It only invited more beatings and shock therapy from the sadistic guards.  But it wasn’t like she had to worry about that anymore.  The intruder would take care of that.

She heard his footsteps over her sobs as he walked over.  “Hey, you’re not the first one they’ve thrown away.  Why they did the exact same thing to me!  Yet here I am, still around to remind them of all their mistakes.”  She looked up through blurry eyes to see one gigantic hand extended to her.  “What do you say, dumpling?  Want me to take you away from all of this?”

She hesitated for just a second, then placed her hand in his.  After all, what did she have to lose?


	4. Witness Protection

_Takes place about a month after ‘Beware the Creeper.’_

The doorbell to the Wayne Manor rang, but Logan happened to be in the middle of unmolding his new casein bullets, so he yelled for Alfred to answer the door. “Bruce said he’s going to drop by to discuss Creed’s and Colombina’s incarceration, so that’s probably him.”

Alfred gave a brief bow and left. After a few minutes, he returned. “I regret to inform you that it was not young master Bruce at the door.” Logan looked up. Beside Alfred was the TV investigator, Kurt Ryder- with a laundry basket. “How many times do I have to tell you, we are not a laundromat.” Which of course Alfred promptly put paid to by indeed taking the basket and leaving the two Gothamites to talk by themselves. “Nor are we a fast food joint, since I’m pretty sure that you intend to mooch off us again.”

“Hey, I was going to do my laundry after my visit here, not my fault Alfred spotted it in the back seat and offered. I just felt I should at least carry it all the way down here. He is getting old, after all.”

“But you still expect to be fed?”

“Well … “ The taller man meandered in looking over various trophies that Dark Claw had collected from his opponents. “At least I have more than one reason to come by. A little bird told me that the head of SHIELD was coming by to discuss our most recent venture. I thought I’d come by and assist.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but Kurt did have a point. Bruce probably had a few questions about the recent capture of the Hyena, and this way Logan wouldn’t have to chase down the busy investigator to get his former ward his answers. Wouldn’t prevent him from ragging on the other though. “Sure, and has nothing to do with your non-existent cooking abilities or blatant crushing on Colombina now would it?”

“Between the show, the investigations, and vigilantism I don’t have time to cook anymore. I wish Anne-Marie would move back in.” Kurt sulked.

“No one wants an overprotective big brother around when they’re trying to get some free time with their significant other.”

“I wasn’t overprotective!”

“Okay, no one wants teasing, pranking big brother around when-”

“I get the point. And I’m not crushing on Colombina, I was simply being friendly.”

“Sure, is that what you called it with Kokoro?”

They could probably have gone on for hours, but Alfred was back again. “Young Master Bruce has arrived.” The younger man wandered into the room, taking the same roving path the reporter had done before. “Logan nice to see you again. Ryder, same.” He got down to business quickly. “Logan, I need to ask you a favor for the prisoner, Colombina.”

“Eh?” One arched eyebrow. “Shoot.”

“I need you to take her and keep her under house arrest for a while. Maybe even up to a year or two, although I’ll try to make it shorter.”

The two older men stared at him. This was not what they had expected. “I assume there’s a reason for this.”

“Yeah, when we put her vitals through the database, she came up as Kitty Pryde, missing child of twelve reported five years ago. Her dad’s listed as deceased, apparently a botched mugging a year after she disappeared. Mom’s also MIA, no contact information at all. They had divorced after her kidnapping, and her dad was the one who kept in contact with the police.”

“That doesn’t explain why you want her under house arrest. I mean yeah, that’s not great for her, but that’s what juvenile prison is for, right?” Logan felt a brief flash of regret when he saw Kurt wince. The reporter had a soft spot for orphans, being one himself. But that didn’t mean Logan had to take in every underage criminal he found.

“The problem is she came up twice in the database. Her DNA is listed under Department K, as Weapon-XXIV.”

“Oh shit.” Logan didn’t need the other to start putting the pieces together. Bruce didn’t want her under house arrest as an act of clemency. He needed to keep her alive to act as a witness against Department K.

After Sgt. Rock had bit the bullet saving the young Bruce from his own recklessness chasing the Green Skull, it had been a wake-up call to the SHIELD agent. Although still hot-headed, he had forced himself to slow down and started taking better care of his teammates. Even Nick Fury had been impressed, saying that the man had eventually earned the promotion that he had initially bought. Eventually, when the time came for Fury to retire, he had handed the reins over to Bruce Wayne. Logan occasionally went to see the ancient man and as far as he knew, Nick had never regretted his choice of successor.

Of course, being the new head of SHIELD meant that Bruce Wayne could no longer devote all his time to chasing the Green Skull. One of the many distractions that had popped up was Department K, the joint US-Canada program that attempted to create human weapons. Logan Wayne himself was a former product of the program, along with the Hyena. Both had been part of Weapon-X, but while Logan had come through with his sense of decency and morality intact, the same could not have been said for Creed H. Quinn. The fact that they escaped and both ended up in New Gotham really said everything Logan needed to know about both Fate and Chance.

SHIELD had been trying to shut down Department K since Nick Fury’s time. Now that Bruce had his hands on another eyewitness … “You don’t trust anyone else with this, do you?”

The younger man shook his head then blue eyes met brown. “I had her pulled from the general population and put into SHIELD’s cells as soon as I found out, but you know how inter-department rivalry works. Sooner or later they’ll slip someone past our hiring screens or activate a sleeper agent, and POOF! goes all our evidence. Moving her here has several advantages. First, I know that none of you are sleepers for Department K. Second, you’re pretty high profile. I want as many eyes on her as I can. Third, I can also depend on you to be able to keep her under arrest. You and Sparrow have the necessary equipment and skills to keep her from escaping if it comes to that. And finally, I think living with you, Alfred and Jubilation will be good for her. She can see that despite what happened she can still have a worthwhile life.”

“For a second there, I thought you were going to say something about a normal life.” interrupted the TV celebrity.

“I don’t think anyone in this room can claim to have a normal life, Mr. Ex-Olympic Athlete. And the only reason I didn’t throw you out is because I want you to use your influence to keep the spotlight on her as much as possible until I’ve dismantled Department K. Worst case scenario, if they get her, but we make it into a big enough mess I’ll get orders from above to limit the damage. It won’t be the clean, official sweep I want, but anything’s better than nothing.”

Kurt flashed the man a lopsided salute. “Orders received,  _meine herr_.”

Logan gave his friend an exasperated look. “It’s still my decision.” He remained silent for a moment. “I’ll need to run it past Alfred and Jubilation, but if they both agree, then yeah, we’ll take her. She’ll be here as a foster though, would look kind of suspicious if we treat her as a prisoner.”

“I’m issuing a blanket pardon in return for her testimony against Department K so that’s fine.” The younger man tilted his head. “Just a thought, but she is familiar with New Gotham’s underground. Perhaps you and Sparrow could use her in your operations.” He turned to the other crime-fighter. “Or maybe Nightcreeper could use a partner?”

“We’ll see.”


	5. Millions and Billions

_Takes place seven years before ‘Beware the Creeper’ but after ‘Origins’._

It was a good start, but not enough. His article on the capture of Sly Tolliver and several high placed Sullivan family members had been good, but it wasn’t going to make his career for him. It wasn’t high profile enough, not to mention most of his recordings and footage had been confiscated by the police. He needed another lucky break, but the only thing in the underground grapevine recently was the death of old mob boss King Barlow. Barlow had never been successfully charged for his crimes, but that had been decades ago, and he wasn’t like Whitey Bulger, with a lurid escape story, Barlow had never left town. If anyone wanted to find him, they had known exactly where he was.

“Didja hear what just happened?”

“Old King Barlow just died- and left the Hyena millions!”

Now that was worth paying attention to. “Vera, my sweet, what’s this about?”

“Cute, like I hadn’t heard that pun a million times already. I take it you heard about Old King Barlow dying?” Kurt nodded his head. “Well the executor opened the will, and it looks like he left his estate to the Hyena!”

“Really?”

“Really. The Hyena showed up at the courthouse and the will was upheld. The editor wants someone to go and interview him. You couldn’t pay me a million dollars to do that.” His rival turned to look at him, but Kurt was already collecting his hat and trench coat.

“I’m not passing in anything for tonight’s issue, sweet Vera. But look for me come morning and I’ll be … tickled  _green_.”

“That’s not the way that phrase works, you kraut.” Kurt ignored the insult and continued on his way. He had a maniac to interview and an article to write!

* * *

The interview (Iceberg Lounge, of course) had been such a success, he and the recordings had actually featured on the evening news. Two good scoops in a row, one more and the editor had been hinting that they would take him on a regular basis. He’d probably still have to freelance (journalist salaries being what they were), but this was definitely a step in the right direction.

But … something just didn’t settle right with him about that story. Not on the Hyena’s part (Creed H. Quinn, he’d have to remember that name), but something about Barlow. Now of course, Barlow had never been successfully charged; it could also be assumed that no one had ever done a complete audit of his assets. Sure he had paid taxes on what his declared income was, but could he really have managed to acquire the billions the will stated he had? There were no major investments made on his part since his retirement, and the man had lingered in the hospital for over a year; that must have eaten into his capital.

So assume the Hyena had less money than he thought. Clearly, some of it had to be real, because the guy had hired a lawyer and was now holding up the courts with rounds and rounds of appeals while he was out on bail. (How did that happen anyway?) The man, while capable of planning, wasn’t known for having the best impulse control or making budgets. How long before he ran through the dough? And what would he do when that happened?

Kurt raised one hand to tap lightly on the thin cotton patch on his bicep. Then he lowered it again without doing anything. Not tonight anyway. He needed some sleep for what he was doing tomorrow. But the night after and maybe after that he could spend some time investigating. He would need to work out a schedule for this.

* * *

“ _Guten abend, Dunkel Klaue_.  _Quis custodiet ipsa insona?”_

Dark Claw turned to look at the speaker but did a double take when he couldn’t see anyone there. “Ryder?” he tentatively asked the air.

“The one and only!”

“Where are you?”

“Right here.” From what appeared to be an empty, shadowed corner a green arm, with a red glove waved out. Walking over, he finally saw the boots, the other glove, but not the boa. Also a pair of dark eyes, but only after squinting for a few minutes. “Are you … invisible?

“Yes, isn’t it wonderful?”

“Are you  _naked_?”

A low giggle emanated from nowhere. “I’m invisible, not my clothes. It’s not like it would work otherwise.”

He wasn’t going to think about that. “Have you been stalking me?”

“Of course not, I’ve been stalking the Hyena. You were just an unexpected bonus, Mr. Bachelor of the Year.” With that, Dark Claw froze. He wasn’t worried about blackmail, but Ryder was a  _reporter_.

“Relax, relax. I’ve known about this for months now. The story wouldn’t be worth it.” A flash of way too sharp fangs in the dark (what had been in that vat?). “It’s much more interesting to just follow you around and report on all the villains you beat up. Why if I wasn’t so concerned with other things, I could make my career entirely on your vigilantism.” That wasn’t reassuring. But Ryder hadn’t done anything yet so Dark Claw wouldn’t do more than threaten the man. Later, when he wasn’t so rattled.

“So why are you following the Hyena? Don’t think the man’s gone straight?”

“A crab may change his home, but a leopard won’t change his spots. And with the way he’s spending cash like  _vasser_ , I’m looking to see what he’ll do when it runs out.” A whisper of invisible flesh moving against brick. “I take it you’re here for the same reason?”

Dark Claw grunted. “Creed coulda gone straight any time over the past few decades. He’s been poor, he’s been rich, he’s been shown compassion and hit with the worst of his crimes. Nothing’s changed him so far.”

“Hmm, a good point. Perhaps you’d like to see one of mine?”

The vigilante gave a wary glance at the supposedly empty corner. From nowhere came a red-gloved hand, holding a gold ingot. “Do I want to know where you were hiding this?” Smothered laughter is all he got in return. Carefully examining the bar, he realized something was off about the weight. It was too light. He scraped the side, which revealed dull grey metal under a thin coating of gold. “Gold-plated lead?” he guessed.

“And that’s not all behind door number three!” In rapid succession, the empty corner produced a stack of cash (counterfeit, obvious counterfeit with the Hyena’s symbol printed on them) and a fine painting (too fine, another fake of something Dark Claw had seen in a museum).

“How’d you get all of these?”

“Quinn was arrogant enough to let some paparazzi take a photo of the vault. It was simply a matter of teleporting and landing on the ceiling.” Dark Claw wanted to ask about the smell, which was one of the few things that could give Nightcreeper away, but the man went on a tangent on what he saw in the vault. Still, he settled back to make himself more comfortable while listening to his companion’s blather.

The Logan Wayne persona had more than enough money to be comfortable for decades, so it’s not like Creed’s little fortune was actually an inconvenience to him. But knowing that it was going to run out and sooner than his nemesis would expect was worth listening to his informant’s non-stop chatter for a while.

* * *

It took longer than either of them had expected, but the Hyena did run out, right about the time the IRS came knocking. Nightcreeper sent off a quick signal to Dark Claw (via a one-way transmitter the other had given him), then deliberately landed on the armored car that the Hyena had hijacked. The sudden appearance of the demon-faced man caused the villain to steer straight into a wall.

The Hyena climbed out of the ruined vehicle, picking up one of his unconscious henchmen’s automatics. Crazy, but not a complete fool, he knew the only way he’d get away with it was if there were no witnesses. Not hesitating at all, he opened fire on the green maniac in front of him.

“Hahahaha! Ooh, that tickles!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He loaded a second clip and fired again, to no avail. The lunatic kept advancing. From behind, one of the goons got up and took a swing at him, only to be knocked out by- was that a tail?

“There’s more wrong here than I thought. Who are you?”

“They call me … green-furred wacky man! But I prefer Nightcreeper.” A flash of fangs, a bang of smoke, and an arm like an iron bar was up against the Hyena’s throat, bending his back to a painful angle and pulling him into a headlock. The criminal struggled, dropping the gun to claw desperately at the imprisoning limb. Before everything went black he saw the black-clothed Dark Claw, with his peacock-clad assistant step into the alleyway he had crashed in.

* * *

“Thanks for the call,” said Dark Claw, firmly pressing a small patch to the other man’s bicep. Due to the difference in heights, the hero was annoyed to find he had to reach up to apply the counter-agent.

“It was no trouble at all.” Kurt Ryder watched as the green fur shed then seemed to disappear. He still wanted to know where it came from and where it went, but no answers would be coming tonight. “Thanks for bringing my clothes.” He flashed a smile at Lark that was still too wide and fangy for the apprentice to be comfortable with.

“Yeah.” The superhero watched as the other quickly discarded boa, gloves, and boots to put on his suit. “Look, Ryder, before you go out there?”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to be doing this regularly? I’m not going to argue about danger or anything, you’re a smart man. But was this a one-off, or should we be on the look-out for you?”

Ryder fixed his tie, then raised his hand to neaten his rapidly darkening hair. “You know what, I think I will be doing this in the future. It’s a concrete way to help people, I can use what I learn to further my career, and being Nightcreeper is oddly liberating in a way.” He flashed another mega-watt smile at the shorter man. “Not all the time maybe, but perhaps a regular schedule.”

Dark Claw sighed. The man actually was fairly competent, but he didn’t think he could take doing another stakeout with the talkative loon. But if he was willing to help … “Here,” he said, handing him a new, permanent two-way communicator. “If you ever have find that you need our help or need something official, use this.”

Dark Claw had plans to organize New Gotham’s vigilantes into a cohesive force. This would be the first step.


	6. The One That Got Away

_One year before ‘Beware the Creeper’._

“Sir, I regret to inform you that I was unable to purchase any fish suitable for human consumption tonight. In lieu of that, I have obtained some pork for supper.”

“Aww … “ moaned Jubilee. “And here I was looking forward to this sushi thing that Logan wanted me to try.”

“Pork is fine, Alfred.” Then the rest of the sentence caught up with Logan Wayne. “Wait, you said there was no fish suitable for human consumption. What type of fish was there?”

“The type you might be interested in for other reasons.” Alfred unwrapped a single package, carefully kept separate from his other purchases. Inside was an unknown type of seawater fish- with a manic grin on its face. Dark Claw and Sparrow looked down in disgust. “What the hell is that? I thought fish didn’t have teeth!”

“Most don’t. And the ones that do, don’t have teeth like that. No joke about it; this is the Hyena’s work.”

At that point, Logan Wayne’s communicator started blaring. He checked the number then answered the call. “Dark Claw here. Yes. I see. The address? We’ll be there shortly.” He shut it off and turned to his two companions. “Alfred, dinner will have to wait.”

“That’s fine sir. I doubt any of us have any appetite after seeing this.”

“Sparrow, get dressed and meet me in the Burrow. Apparently, the Hyena’s been up to more mischief than just mutilated fish.”

* * *

 _A few hours back_.

The trademark office of New Gotham was a tiny thing, taking up just half a floor in a rather obscure office building. It never saw much business. Not that there weren’t plenty of inventors and start-ups in New Gotham, no the place was a breeding ground for creative types. They just weren’t the types who would seek to distribute their inventions or gain their money through legal channels.

When the petite young woman slammed the door open, flanked by a couple of over-muscled goons, Francis initially thought she was looking for the costume shop on the fifth floor. Before he could redirect her though, she blew a loud note on her kazoo. “Please welcome the chief of clowns, the forerunner of fools and the leader of leathermen, the honorable Hyena.” The only thing more absurd than her words was her deadpan delivery.

Behind her, New Gotham’s most notorious criminal shouldered his way through the door and bulldozed through the desks until he was standing in front of Francis. Slamming one of the infamous fish that all of Gotham had been talking about on the desk, he gave the poor branch head an up-close look at his notorious grin. “Let me make a long story short, Chuckles. My handsome face is turning up on fish all over the county. I’m flattered, but the rampant use of my image without my consent isn’t worth the publicity.”

Francis shrank back. “I understand that very well, sir, but what do you expect me to do about it? I don’t know where these fish are coming from, so I can’t act against their creator.”

One giant hand gave a flippant wave. “I know, I know. I’m crazy, not stupid. However, I do believe some compensation is in order. Say 5% for every product that uses a  _Piscis Hyaenida_ as a component? 5% from every meal that uses my fish. 5% for every store that sells it as a pet. 5% for every fish used in industrial … Compy what do they use fish for?”

“Fertilizer.” stated the young woman who had announced the Joker.

“Yes, 5% of every bag of fertilizer sold that uses my fish as an ingredient. Surely it’s not too much to ask your office to enforce this?”

Francis shrank back. He really didn’t want to tick of this madman, but better him than any of the others in the office. “Er, I’m sorry sir but that’s not the way the law works. Fish are a ubiquitous resource and cannot be trademarked or patented without something to show that you have worked to make it unique. That hasn’t happened here.”

“But my face is on it, see?” The ghoulishly grinning grouper was shoved into Francis’s face. “Isn’t that proof enough?”

“We need more proof.”

The Hyena lent back, folding his arms and leaving the fish on Francis’s desk. “Well, that’s a disappointment.” He turned, clicking his fingers to make sure the goons followed him. “Compy, I’ll be in the car. Deal with this fool, will you? But not too rough. We’ll give him until midnight to change his mind.” The Hyena turned around and stomped his way out.

While the trademark department was watching, the young woman (apparently named Compy?) who had accompanied the Hyena leaned down to smile at Francis. “Shoulda just played along with Mister H. Oh well.” She took a deep breath, then wrinkled her nose. “You stink of fish.” She pressed a small flower attached to the collar of her harlequin patterned jumpsuit. A cloud of perfume, so heavy and thick he could see it tinting the air pink sprayed out and got into his eyes. The paper-pusher hacked and cough, scrubbing at his watering eyes. He was so distracted, he missed the punch heading his way.

“Bye-bye now! Maybe you’ll do the right thing now!” She was already out the door by the time he had regained his senses.

* * *

_Just before midnight._

“If there’s anyone who knows the Hyena better than you, I don’t know him,” said Commissioner Gordon to Dark Claw. “I don’t want to alarm the man by calling what that maniac said a threat …”

“But it’s a threat.” The two of them watched as Sparrow paced back and forth in front of the closed windows. “I’ve already checked the house and it’s clean so no booby traps here. Then Sparrow and I set-up a three-layered perimeter around the house. Hopefully, it’ll stop him from just bulldozing his way in, but worst case scenario it slows him down and we get an advance warning to evacuate whatever-his-name here.” A squeak of ‘Francis’ came from the civilian but he was ignored.

As they waited, Detective Bullock turned on the TV for entertainment. The commissioner was just about to tell him to turn it off when a familiar voice came on. “Hello, sluts and germs. I’m sure you’ve all seen the new fish around bearing my familiar facade. While not one of my schemes-”

“Yeah, right.” snorted Bullock.

“I can’t help but be flattered. And they’re delicious! Why just try them for yourselves!” With that, the Hyena held out a forkful to the same female minion from earlier. One delicate hand came up to steady the utensil, and she took a bite and chewed. And chewed. And chewed. The interruption wasn’t in color, but Dark Claw was pretty certain she’d be turning green if it was. Finally, she swallowed. “Yummy-yum-yum,” then she ran off-screen. The audience heard sounds of retching.

“How’s the trace going?” asked Gordon, ignoring the screen.

“Still running, but I can tell they’re nowhere nearby.”

“Then how?”

“Unfortunately I’ve run into a little problem getting these things trademarked. However, as it’s midnight and the dear little head of the local branch still hasn’t changed his mind … well, I’m sure his replacement will be much more amiable.” The screen flickered to static at that point.

“What does he mean?”

“Maybe something time delayed? A car bomb? We already know there are no booby traps in the house.” asked Sparrow.

“No, we checked the car too. Excuse me,” Dark Claw turned to the paper-pusher. “You sure nothing else happened when the Hyena was at your office?”

“Nothing significant I can think of. He came in, made his demands, then stormed out and his moll gave me this black eye.”

“Anything insignificant?”

“She announced the Hyena with a lot of fancy titles, her name’s apparently Compy, she sprayed me with some perfume before she hit-”

“The perfume! We need to get you to a hospital right away!” But before anyone could do anything, a whistling sound filled the air and a small rocket smashed into the room. It released a cloud of bluish gas. Everyone started coughing except Francis, who started laughing instead. Dark Claw quickly injected the antivenom into a vein in his arm.

“Damn,” said Gordon, gesturing for his men to make a makeshift stretcher and get Francis downstairs to wait for the ambulance. “Think he’s gotten what he wanted?”

“No, he mentioned a successor. We’d better find out who that is and get a cordon around him too.” At that point, the static flickered off again and they saw the Hyena back on the screen. “Hello, Dark Claw. I know you’re watching this. Let me give you a hint. His name’s Thomas Jackson, and you’ve got until 3 AM this time. Now, here’s a little something to brighten your night!”

The picture flickered to the young female minion, standing outside a bathroom. In a rough voice, she recited, “Happy haddock, cheery cod! Elated eel and-” No one said anything when the brooding hero put his claws through the TV.

* * *

_Just after 3 AM._

“Sparrow, I want you to call someone for me.” The antivenom had saved Thomas Jackson’s life, but the Hyena had called out the third member of the trademark branch and dropped the grace period too. If they didn’t get ahead of him somehow the entire branch would be down in twenty-four hours and then who knows who the Hyena would target next.

She opened up the communicator and drew up the list of contacts. “Who do you want to bring in this time?”

“Nightcreeper, if he’s in Gotham now.”

The young girl made a face. “He is. I saw Ryder buying groceries the other day. But why him?”

“He’s got immunity to the Hyena’s gas. Tell him to meet us at the Aquarium. It’s the only place the Hyena could have found that Japanese Tang he used for Jackson’s cat.” Dark Claw frowned as he turned towards the seaport. “Also tell him that if he sees a young woman in a costume, to try and capture her.”

“Her specifically?”

“I’ll handle the Hyena. But the two-part toxin, and getting the victim’s cat to deliver the toxin, rather than just busting in and beating the victim to death, that subtlety’s not coming from him. I think she might be behind it and I want to interrogate her this time.”

Sparrow simply nodded and started dialing.

* * *

When they got to the Aquarium, they spotted the Hyena and his thugs, but the woman was nowhere in sight. By the sounds coming from the bathroom, she wasn’t far though. “You know, I never did get around to seeing if those fish were safe for human consumption.” They heard a flush and more retching. “I guess this answers that question.”

The fight turned out very short. Dark Claw was able to hold his own against the henchmen, but the Hyena targeted Sparrow and was quickly able to disable her and tie her up. “Your choice, runt. Either she goes into the tank . . . or you do.” Dark Claw speedily surrendered. After Quinn had handcuffed him behind his back and rubbed him down with raw hamburger, the taller man kicked him into the shark tank. “No!” shrieked Sparrow. “There are too many of them!” The Hyena just laughed.

“I always thought sharks had an undeservedly bad reputation.” Sparrow, the thugs, and the Hyena glanced over to where they spotted a green-furred man sporting a red boa. He was looking into the largest holding tank, tapping at the glass. “Sure they look scary, but they’re a lot more curious and playful than malevolent.” He shot them a fanged smile over his shoulder. “More like me than you, don’t you think?”

Sparrow took advantage of the distraction. One low kick to the side had the thug on the left toppling over, shooting his automatic into the air. The other henchman ducked to avoid the stray gunfire and she rammed her shoulder into his solar plexus, causing him to drop his gun and lose his breath.

Nightcreeper was trading blows with the Hyena. “Hey!” she shouted. “Do something about the glass instead! Claw can’t hold his breath forever!” The near-naked lunatic tossed the more dangerous one into the restroom alcove, then tossed a few more pieces of furniture to block them in. Then he climbed to the top of the shark tank and started punching holes in the barrier that the Hyena had placed over the tank. Sparrow kept the two minions occupied until Nightcreeper had pulled her mentor out of the tank.

“What’d you do with the Hyena?” asked Dark Claw while the Nightcreeper broke their handcuffs.

“He’s taking a rest, of course! Man looked like he needed it.”

“Oh no … “ breathed Sparrow.

“Ryder, that wench of his is in there!”

“ _Ja, ja_  I heard her on my way in. So we can scoop them both up at the same time!”

“Ryder, we’ve seen her run through walls like air! We have to stop them!” Dark Claw tried to stand up, but fell down again. Accelerated healing factor apparently wasn’t as effective against near drowning as it was against bullet wounds.

“I’ll go!” exclaimed Sparrow, leaping down to start clearing the mess. Nightcreeper came down and assisted her, sweeping away the debris nearly as fast as he had created it.

But when they got through both the Hyena and Compy were gone.


	7. Choices

_Takes place about six months after ‘Beware the Creeper’._

_This one should be titled ‘The Author Piles More Angst on Kitty’s Already Tragic Backstory’._

She knew she shouldn’t have gotten out of bed this morning.

Colombina hunched her shoulders over as the White Witch and Mercury passed. When she heard them whispering, she forced herself to straighten up and look them both in the eyes. They quickly averted their glances and sped up down the hall.

Damn. At least she shouldn’t have worn her costume.

“Did they really just leave you out here?” The ex-villainess looked up. Standing there was a blonde, modelesque woman in chainmail. Even as Colombina watched, the woman shrank till she was just a few inches above Kitty’s height, slimming down to a more delicate build, and the blonde hair turned brown. The mail started to sag on her form, designed to accommodate curves that no longer existed. “Gloria … Gloria Mundi?” asked Colombina, trying to remember the name that Nighcreeper had told her.

The other nodded. “And you’re Kitty, right? Kurt asked Brian and me to keep an eye out for you.”

“Brian … that would be Captain Krypton, correct?”

“Mmhm. They didn’t bring you in? They let that lunatic Nightcreeper participate in the meeting!”

Colombina shrugged. “I’m fine with waiting.” Of course, to put paid to her words, Shatterstarfire came down the hall. The alien princess spotted the two of them and deliberately tilted her nose in the air, snubbing them as hard as she could without actually having to speak to them. Behind the princess’s back, Gloria Mundi gained another foot in height, wings, claws, and glowing green eyes.

Those eyes watched until the Tamojaran had exited the corridor then turned back to the girl she had been originally talking to. “Would you like to kill some time by sparring?” she offered, tactfully neglecting the obvious.

“Please.”

* * *

Sparring against Gloria Mundi was actually pretty fun. Every time Colombina hit her, she got just a little bit stronger, a little bit faster. So the villainess had to make new plans to take her off guard and surprise her to get that next hit in. It was a race between Gloria’s metamorph abilities and Colombina’s wits. Or was until-”Wait!”

The younger woman froze. Her cherry brass knuckles (a trinket from the Hyena that she never used in real fights) paused just above the blonde woman’ head. “What? I thought we were fighting.”

“We are … just give me a second.”

“Is that allowed?” She watched the older woman turn a light shade of green (real green, not just hyperbole). “Hey, are you okay?”

“Hand me that bucket.”

“What?”

“ _Now!”_

Colombina quickly picked up the bucket (left behind by some lazy cleaning crew she assumed) and handed it to Gloria Mundi. The blonde put it between her knees, leaned forward … and threw up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, nothing! I’m just … “ Gloria paused, then threw up again.

Colombina just stared a look of disgust on her face. But disgust shifted to surprise then speculation. “Holy shit, are you pregnant?”

“What on earth ever gave you-” Aaannnddd cut off again by another round of heaving.

“Holy shit you are! This is morning sickness!”

“It’s mid-afternoon.” The other said dryly. Satisfied that there was nothing left to come up, the older woman stood up and carefully placed the bucket to the side. “Now are we fighting or not?”

“Nah, no way I’m doing that with you. I remember how hard it can be like that.”

Gloria Mundi paused and looked over at her companion. The slight build, the elaborate costume, the fact she couldn’t be older than mid-teens at the latest. “Kitty, what do you mean by that?”

Colombina just returned the stare, wide-eyed and her hand over her mouth. “It’s nothing!”

“It’s not nothing! Kitty is this something that the Hyena-”

“No! No. We weren’t like that.” The blue damsel had turned to the wall so Gloria couldn’t see her face. After a second her hands dropped away from where they had covered her mouth. “How much do you know about me?”

The armored woman reached out a hand, then pulled back. “Dark Claw made sure everyone knew everything about your relationship with the Hyena.”

“That jerk.”

“I also know that you were previously … detained by Department K. I don’t know any details about that though.” She hesitated then continued. “If not with the Hyena, was it with Department K?”

“It was … I don’t know, just a few months before I escaped. They decided they had gotten all they could from me, so they decided to see if my mutation could be replicated.”

“Surgery?”

“No.” By this time Gloria had walked around so she could see the younger woman’s profile. “They decided to implant the fetus the  _old-fashioned way_.” Colombina’s voice was cold and biting.

“You’re a mommy?”

“No.” If anything her voice got even harder. “After about six months they decided Weapon-XXIV was a failure and they didn’t need any variants.” The brunette hunched over, arms wrapped around her stomach. “At least they put me under for that.”

“Oh … oh no.” At this, the blonde swept the smaller woman up. Unnoticed, her form shifted, muscle changing to softer fat, the lines on her face softening to a more matronly appearance. “Did they do anything else?”

“I don’t know.” Colombina was curled in her lap. “I’ve been afraid to ask them to check.”

“At least you nothing permanent came from this.” To the older woman’s surprise that caused Kitty to tense even more. “Did you want the babe?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I wanted that one. I don’t know if I’ll ever want children. I don’t know if I should be happy it’s dead. I don’t know if I can ever have children in the future or if they did something to me while I was out to make sure I wouldn’t.” Colombina had begun uncurling while talking, but only to lash out at Gloria Mundi. Fortunately, her armor took most of it. “I do know that it should have been my decision!”

“That’s one thing we all can agree on.” The older woman was quiet while the younger continued to sob and pound on her chest. When the crying had quieted, she sought a different topic. “I guess after that, the Hyena must have looked like salvation.”

“No.” Colombina’s voice wasn’t as cold as before, just tired and apathetic. “Don’t make that mistake. Just because he didn’t rape me, doesn’t mean that he has any redeeming qualities.”

Gloria looked down in confusion. “I’ve never actually met the Hyena. I don’t understand.”

“Look,” said Kitty, sliding off Gloria’s lap so she could meet her eye to eye. “Why don’t I give you an example. Once, there was a time after a heist where we ran out of gas. We pulled over to a station and started pumping. But we hadn’t a chance to convert the swag, so we didn’t have any money. What do you think happened?”

“You … left without paying?” the blonde hazarded a guess.

“That’s what I wanted to do. But Mr. H, he walked into the store and grabbed the clerk from behind the counter. Dragged him back out in front of me and told me to shoot him in the head.”

“So I did.” Gloria gasped.

“He said I could shoot him in the head, or he’d gut him right there and then leave. Gut wounds are a hard way to die and harder to fix. The clerk would have spent days dying in agony.”

“Why didn’t you shoot the Hyena? Or run away?”

“You can shoot the Hyena. He’ll come back after a minute, two tops, and then he would have beaten me after gutting the clerk. As for running away.” The younger woman shrugged. “Where was I to run to? My parents were dead, the police would just shoot me, Dark Claw would turn me over to the police and the only other people I knew at that point were either criminals or Department K.”

Gloria continued to stare. “I guess you felt you had no choice.”

“The point is, the Hyena may have been the lesser evil compared to Department K. But a lesser evil is still evil, and you should never forget that.”


	8. Christmas in July

_Otherwise known as the author is too hot and sick of summer already._

“Hey, do you guys celebrate Christmas?”

Logan looked up from where he was perusing the paper. “No. There are some celebrations at Wayne Industries, and some functions I need to attend as the head of the company, but Christmas is too hypocritical and overblown for me. Jubilee’s big things are the Lunar New Year and the Autumn Moon Festival in August.”

“Do you celebrate anything, Logan?”

“Hockey season. Why?”

His newest ward twirled a lock of dark hair. “I was just wondering if we could celebrate it this year.”

Jubilee stopped playing her video game and looked up at the older girl. “Wait, aren’t you Jewish? I think I saw that in your file.”

“Well, yeah. But my parents were really strict about this growing up. I wasn’t even allowed to participate in school. I’ve always wanted to at least try it once … “

“Well, I think that’s a splendid idea. It will be a treat to have a real, old-fashioned Christmas for once.” Logan didn’t know when Alfred had entered the room, but the butler looked delighted in his usual subtle fashion. The older man came over to Kitty and took her arm. “We could decorate the house, prepare traditional foods, actually do an exchange of gifts this year … “ He led her out, still happily explaining what they could do. Logan and Jubilee watched them go with wide eyes.

“I guess Alfred got tired of just arranging the big Wayne Christmas soiree, and nothing else,” said Jubilee.

“I guess. I don’t think we’ve celebrated Christmas in this house since Robin was here. I don’t care and Lark was a militant atheist. Guess he misses having a chance to really go through the whole thing.”

* * *

The first thing Alfred insisted on was a tree. “In the interest of practicality, it’s better to get a tree, then plan the decorations around it, rather than trying to fit the tree through the door, furniture, and any decorations already placed. And as it is already most of the way through December, we won’t have to worry about taking any special actions to preserve the tree.”

The problem was, as it was the last week before Christmas, there weren’t a lot of trees left on the lot. They’d all agreed not to cut down anything on the estate, and Alfred had thrown the idea of an artificial tree right out. But the selection at the lot was skimpy.

“This one?” asked Logan.

“Too tall. It would bend at the ceiling when we prop it up.”

“That one?” questioned Kitty.

“Far too lopsided. We’d have to chop it up to make it acceptable.”

“Look what I found!” declared Jubilee. The tree she held up was a tiny, bedraggled thing, with just a few lopsided branches. As they watched, it shed even more of its almost entirely absent needles. “Isn’t it just like that cartoon we watched?”

Alfred was the tallest out of them, so that made it fairly easy for him to look down his nose at the poor thing. “If I were you, Miss Jubilation, I would stop taking life cues from television. What works for a Christmas special is not acceptable for a distinguished and wealthy household.”

Just for that, Logan made sure to pay for the drooping midget tree in addition to the majestic pine that Alfred picked out. He did warn Jubilee to keep it in her room though.

* * *

The next big issue was decoration. Jubilee had actually been fairly enthusiastic about this, planning to cover every inch of the outside of the house with lights. “With my gymnastic skills and the experience with wiring I get from our hobby, this will be a cinch and so impressive it’ll knock the socks off all our neighbors.”

 _What neighbors?_  Thought Logan. He specifically had bought an estate big enough that he didn’t have to see his neighbors from the house. Alfred was also somewhat hesitant, but after the whole tree-picking expedition and decoration fiasco, he probably figured that he owed Jubilation one. So he passed her the miles of cords, a stepladder and the blueprints she had drawn out, and kept a good watch from the window.

Several hours later, there was a loud cry of “It’s done! Flip the switch, Alfred!” There was a low sigh, a quick muttered prayer, then the butler left his guard station by the window.

Then the lights went out. Logan and Kitty paused from where they had been doing corporate paperwork, and catch-up homework respectively to stare at the non-functional lights. At that moment Alfred came in carrying a couple of flashlights and an exasperated expression on his face. “Was it the breaker, Alfred?”

“Yes, sir. It will only take a few minutes to reset, but if Miss Katherine would help me fix the root cause, it would be much appreciated.” Kitty got up with a puzzled look and followed him out.

While the lights were still out, Jubilee wandered in, looking a little singed and pouting, but otherwise no worse for wear. “So I’m reckless, but he trusts Colombina with electrical wiring?”

Logan squinted where he was still trying to do paperwork by the light from the windows. “Colombina has spent the past five years learning to bypass security systems and build bombs, timers, and detonators. She has to know her wiring, otherwise, she’d be dead by now.” Jubilee’s pout got even deeper.

* * *

Logan didn’t tell her, but he appreciated the elegant design created by Alfred and Kitty (using only white, blue, red and green strands rather than the multicolored blinkers that Jubilee was planning) much more than Jubilee’s planned extravaganza. He especially appreciated the lack of blow-up Snoopy figurines.

* * *

“No.”

Alfred sighed and took down the mistletoe. He hadn’t really been serious about that part anyway.

* * *

It was less than five days to Christmas, and Logan had finally decided to go shopping. To be fair, he had already purchased gifts for most of the people he knew who celebrated last month. But now that the household was going to participate, he realized that he needed to get gifts for Jubilee and Kitty. He hadn’t bought Jubilee Christmas gifts in the three years she’d been living with him, but he had bought her gifts on other occasions, so he wasn’t too worried about finding things for her. But he had no idea what to get Kitty.

He sauntered over to a clerk. Killinger’s was as busy as expected, but this one clerk seemed free. “What would be appropriate to buy a Jewish person for Christmas?”

Her green eyes narrowed. “First of all, you shouldn’t be buying a Jewish person a Christmas gift, you should have given gifts during Hannukah. Second... “ Logan wondered if he had made a mistake.

* * *

“You look like Hell warmed over,” state Jubilee when Logan Wayne finally made it home. He collapsed face-down on the couch, not even bothering to hide the Killinger’s bag.

“I just spent two hours being lectured on cultural sensitivity by Laura Killinger.”

“Who?”

“The daughter of the owner of that department store downtown.”

Confusion changed to horror. “You went to a department store? Five days before Christmas?”

“I was panicking. I had no idea what to get Kitty. I settled for a silk scarf.” Jubilee ducked her head. “I’m pretty sure she wasn’t expecting anything big. I got her a set of Christmas novelty hats.”

* * *

“Master Logan, gifts from Kurt Ryder have arrived. Should I place them under the tree?” The older man looked up from the never-ending paperwork and frowned. “Kurt? He and Anne-Marie are in Germany now. How’d he know to send gifts?”

“I told him when he called while you were on your shopping trip. He wanted to know what possibly could have driven you to such extremes.” Logan put his head in his hands. “I’m never going to hear the end of this. Fine, stick ‘em under that pile of kindling.”

“Yes, but there is one slight problem sir.” Like magic, the butler produced several wrapped packages from behind his back. One box labeled ‘Logan’, a box with ‘Jubilee’, and one … cleverly wrapped but still clearly a sword with a tag for ‘Kitty’. “Are we sure that the counter-agent we gave Ryder is functioning properly?”

“I suppose the insanity must have come from somewhere other than the chemical vat. What amazes me is that he managed to have that shipped in two days.”

“Never underestimate the power of celebrity, sir.”

* * *

“So I’ve actually been having a lot of fun cooking with Alfred.” Kitty pulled out another batch of cookies from the oven and set them on the cooling rack. A quick glance at the clock showed the other set (stained glass insets) needed another fifteen minutes before coming out. “I mean, my Mom and I did some cooking before everything, but she was always so concerned that everything be vegan-friendly, dairy-free, gluten-free and so on. She had a lot of good recipes, but she also liked to experiment, and that made for some pretty dismal meals sometimes.”

Jubilee nodded, mouth too full of cookie to speak. Once she was free to talk again, she asked, “So Alfred’s breaking out the big guns I take it.”

“Yeah. He says that every year he just ends up ordering catering for the big events and never gets a chance to cook for himself.” For a second, Kitty looked sad. “He’s got friends, but none who live nearby, or who he’d feel comfortable celebrating with. I think he’s really enjoying himself this year.”

“Food can be an important part of celebrating,” agreed Jubilee. “Even if we don’t do this again, maybe we could all do a big Christmas dinner every year. I’m definitely digging all the different types of food he’s making.” Then she pulled a face. “Although I’m going to have to be careful. Gymnasts have to watch what they eat if they want to remain competitive.”

“One big meal wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

“A week of this stuff I can work out no problem. But a month of it would take me off my game, maybe permanently.” She shoved another cookie in her mouth. “But these are so good, it’s totally worth it!”

Kitty beamed. That was one of the batches she had made by herself. “For Christmas, we’re going to have a roast, dilled carrots, mashed turnips, that strange green bean casserole I see in advertisements all the time, and a flaming pudding! Well, the flaming pudding is only if he can talk Logan into it.”

“Is a flaming pudding the same as fruitcake?”

“No, the pudding is still being stewed. He says that it really should be hung over the previous month, luckily he was making one for himself so we’ll have that one.” The older girl turned around then came back with a tray. On it were slices of dense, dark bread, redolent with spices and speckled heavily with preserved fruits. “Here’s a recipe that he says was passed down through his family since the turn of the century.” She took one piece for herself and gave one to Jubilee. As they continued to talk, the Asian girl took another. Then another. Then she stole three more pieces when Kitty returned her focus to cooking.

* * *

Jubilee’s hangover the next morning had Logan declare that the Pennyworth fruitcake was now an adult-only food. He did agree that it was the best fruitcake he’d ever tasted.

* * *

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Dark Claw asked. He and Sparrow were suiting up for patrol; if last year was any indicator, Christmas Eve was prime time for New Gotham’s loonies to pull a major heist or attack.

“Yes, besides, there’s no way you guys would want to leave me alone here, nor do you trust me enough to take me on patrol with you. Besides, Midnight Mass isn’t much of a hardship compared to how I’ve spent this holiday for the last five years.” Kitty smoothed down the red velvet dress that had been her present from Logan.

“Yeah, but it’s one thing to want to try all the culture stuff about the holiday, and another to want to experience the religious bits too. You don’t have to. Alfred could just stay home to watch you.”

“You could say that to Alfred too. He’s the one who’s been driving me to synagogue every week.” Well, that answered a question Logan had never thought to ask. “It’s no big deal. I said I wanted the full experience, and that’s what I’m getting.”

“If you’re sure,” Dark Claw pulled the hood and mask on and unlocked the Clawmobile. “You’ll both be back before us, so don’t wait up.”

The young girl just smirked. “We’ll be sure to leave glasses of milk and plates of cookies out for you both.”

* * *

The lights were on, the tree was up. The presents had all been opened, but the wrapping paper wasn’t cleared away. Kitty and Jubilee were in the next room playing Jubilee’s new video game, while Logan and Alfred contemplated their new gifts (Cuban Cigars and the newest version of Starkphone, both of which Logan was pretty sure Kitty had obtained illegally). Finally, Logan sighed and looked at Alfred. “Okay, fine this was fun. We can do this in the future again, although maybe without the blackout and panicky, last-minute gift buying next time.”

“I’m glad you agree with me, sir. I felt that even coming from different backgrounds, this would be a good bonding experience for the young Misses. It reminds me of when young Master Bruce was part of the household.” Logan contemplated the fact that he and the household were probably the closest thing Alfred had to a family at this point.

“Fine. But absolutely no mistletoe, are we clear on that?”

“Yes, sir.” Alfred suppressed a sigh. He had so been looking forward to inviting Lady Talia next year.


	9. Fashion Faux-Pas

_Takes place about two years after ‘Beware the Creeper’._

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” announced Sparrow. “The good news is that the JLX have agreed to sponsor our forming a new team and setting out on our own. They’ve even designated a location, Jump City, for our headquarters.”

“Never heard of it,” stated Shatterstarfire.

“It’s on the West Coast of the United States. It’s a rapidly growing metropolis, with no major superhero team covering it, just some part-timers. Putting us their means they don’t have to expand anyone else’s territory and no one has to move to cover the area.”

“How convenient for them.”

Sparrow shrugged. “It’s better than fighting to carve out territory in someone else’s sphere of influence. I mean we could try to fight Lark for Bludhaven, but I don’t think we’d do very well.” Colombina and Ferro Man both nodded at this. They had faced off against Lark in their previous careers, and neither was eager to do so again. “So we’ve got a location, and JLX will provide funding so we can get some headquarters set up. The bad news is that we’ve got two conditions to fulfill.”

“Go on,” urged Ferro.

“The first condition is that I have to be the leader of the team-”

“You! Why you?” complained Shatterstarfire.

“Have you looked at the composition of our team?” she asked the alien sarcastically. “Two of us are underage-” She pointed to Aconite and Martenitsi. “Two of us are former criminals-” Sparrow turned her attention to Ferro Man and Colombina.

“I am neither under-age nor a criminal!” stated Koriand’ru haughtily.

“No, but you’re you.” shot back Colombina.

“The JLX was created specifically to protect Earth,” Looks like Sparrow was going to be the peacekeeper on this team. “They’re not going to allow alien royalty to command a team unless they’ve had several years to get to know that person. It’s a  _reasonable_  precaution on their part.” The Asian tactfully avoided mentioning the Tamojaran’s many, many different blow-ups with other teams. “Anyway, given the restrictions, that leaves me as the only viable candidate on this team. If you don’t like it, Koriand’ru, you can go and argue it with Dark Claw and Mister X, or find another team.”

There was a brief interlude while the princess seethed and the others contemplated. “What’s the other restriction?” asked Ferro Man. Personally, he was relieved that Sparrow would be taking the lead on this one. He wasn’t sure he’d have trusted any of the others with the responsibility.

“The second restriction is that we have to deliver regular, as in once every three months, reports to one of the older members of the JLX. Whoever it is won’t be running the team or living with us, but will occasionally pop in to help and we can direct any requests or inquiries to that person.”

As expected, Koriand’ru exploded at this as well. “Don’t they trust us?!?”

“Of course not,” snorted Aconite. “We’ve got to earn it, especially with a team like this. At least their not insisting that someone else take control of the team, and they’re not forcing us to live with a nursemaid. Apron strings or training wheels, and I’ll take the wheels over the strings any day.”

“Did they say who our contact was going to be?” asked Colombina, at least making an attempt to head off the incoming temper tantrum.

“Not yet. Dark Claw said he had someone specific in mind, and to get you guys together to meet that person.” Sparrow quickly checked her communicator. “He says to go down to conference room C-7 to meet whoever it is.”

There was a quick shuffle as everyone got into places. Ferro Man and Martenitsi fell behind, while Koriand’ru pushed Sparrow aside to get ahead. That ticked off Aconite who attempted to take the lead, which eventually led to a cross between a race and shoving match. The others sped up to try and control the two, and it ended with them all in front of the conference room, breathless and ticked off. Sparrow activated the door and pushed them all in.

“ _Guten abend, kinder!”_

Sparrow and Colombina froze for a moment then slowly turned toward Shatterstarfire. The alien frowned and opened her mouth-

“I refuse to work with someone dressed like an OBSCENE CHRISTMAS TREE!”

Expected explosion, but unexpected offendee. Everyone whipped their heads around to stare at Aconite, who was rapidly turning red. Behind them, forgotten, Koriand’ru crossed her arms and said, “Well, I don’t see anything wrong with what he’s wearing.”

Dark Claw had apparently chosen the  _Nightcreeper_ to be their contact. The man had shown up in all his glory. Deep green fur, bright red boa, red gloves and boots trimmed with gold-tipped fur. Combined with the dark green G-String, Aconite had a point. “ _Danke, fraulein,_ I’m flattered! Nice to see my efforts are appreciated!”

Sparrow didn’t even bother to comment, just turning puppy eyes to Colombina. She frowned in return. “No.”

“Please? You’re the only one he listens to about this stuff.”

“Eeeuuurrrggghhh … Aconite, if I get him to cover up more, are you alright with this guy?”

“He’s a lunatic,” the shapeshifter sniffed. “But as long as I don’t have to deal with him and he starts wearing something decent, I won’t object anymore.”

“Anyone else?”

“No, we’re fine.” Martenitsi spoke quickly while her brother tried to get the Tamorajan to shut up. Ignored behind them were the comments of “He looks fine!” and “Stop trying to cover my mouth, Ferro!”

Colombina turned back to the beaming Nightcreeper. “’Creeper, may I ask you a favor?”

“Of course,  _madchen_. Your wish is my command!” Followed up by the most flamboyant bow any of them had ever seen.

“I know how much you love your outfits, and I know how useful you find the ability to go invisible, but there are minors as part of this team. Please wear something a little more appropriately next time we meet.” During this statement, Nightcreeper had taken the opportunity to teleport onto the ceiling and was examining the other team members. He was currently poking a furious Shatterstarfire in the face while Ferro tried desperately to restrain her. At the ex-villainess’s request, he pulled back and adopted an upside-down ‘Thinking Man’ pose. Colombina attempted to sweeten the pot. “I’ll even go with you to help pick it out.”

“Yay! Let’s go shopping then!” With that, he jumped down, wrapped his tail around her and teleported away. The rest of them spent a few minutes staring at the sulfurous cloud. Ferro turned to Sparrow. “And you work with him?”

“Only sometimes. He’s really not that bad.” Now everyone was looking at her suspiciously. The Asian ducked her head. “Good guys are hard to find in New Gotham … “

* * *

“So what are we going to call ourselves?” asked Sparrow as they made their way to the conference room to deliver their first progress report.

“Teen Titans!” shouted Shatterstarfire.

“New Mutants!” shot back Martenitsi.

“We’re not all mutants though!”

“Why take the name of a group of losers then!”

“At this rate, we’re going to end up with the name ‘Misfits’,” muttered Colombina to Sparrow.

“Hush you!” she hissed back. “Guys, I just want to remind you; please please please don’t say anything mean to Nightcreeper when we get there. If you can’t say anything nice, just keep your mouth shut.”

“Are you worried he’ll get offended?” asked Martenitsi.

“No, I’m worried he’ll take it as encouragement.” The younger girl looked over at Colombina. “Now are you sure he’s decent?”

“Even I can’t talk the Nightcreeper into wearing something decent. But I guarantee that he’s covered up more this time. No obscene Christmas trees here.”

“Oooh boy. Aconite, maybe you’d better stand in the back. Ferro, make sure she doesn’t run away.” With that, Sparrow opened the door to the conference room.

“Tad-ah! What’ do you think? Too much?” True to her word, Colombina had indeed managed to get Nightcreeper to cover up more skin. The pixie boots had been replaced by knee-highs. The fur-trimmed gloves by opera-length ones. A ruffled shrug took the place of the boa. The G-String was now a speedo. And all were in nice, non-offensive, plain black.

Sparrow turned to her team. Colombina was deliberately gazing out the window into space. Ferro, mouth open in shock, was covering his sister’s eyes. Koriand’ru was devouring the eye candy. And Aconite had gone past red and was turning purple.

“On you? Not enough. Not nearly enough.”


	10. Abominite

_Takes place some time between ‘Choices’ and ‘Fashion Faux-Pas’ although closer to the later._

“So, that tracker of yours doing any good?” Colombina and Nightcreeper walked down the street, well, Colombina walked down the street. Nightcreeper jumped from street lamp to molding to the roof of a parked car. Colombina only wished she could say partnering up with the other superhero was meant to be some sort of punishment, but nope, everyone seemed to genuinely feel she had a better chance of controlling the lunatic than the other members of the JLX. So here they were, wandering around in broad daylight in their superhero (or whatever the two of them were) costumes.

“Hhheeelllooo? Earth to Colombina, have you spotted Major Tom on your journey?” A red gloved hand waved in her face.

“What?” She started back, then looked down again at the tracker in her hand. “I’m seeing a cluster up ahead in that warehouse, but it’s not strong enough to be the original.”

“Well, we can’t have Abominite’s drones wandering around now can we?” With that, the taller superhero scooped her up and bounded up to the roof, bypassing all the traffic below, and attracting all the attention Colombina had hoped to avoid. They made their way to the warehouse, pausing only long enough for the ex-villainess to stow her tracker away safely, before crashing through the skylight into the nest below.

About a third of the drones had emerged from their cocoons and turned to face the threat. Nightcreeper laughed (causing Colombina to wince and cover her ears) and launched himself at those. For all his insanity, she had to give him credit, he was aiming to disable and immobilize, not kill.

That left the remaining ones for her to administer the antidote to. She didn’t bother with propriety, ripping open cocoons from whatever accessible angle and pressing the jet injector to the available skin. Unfortunately even with Nightcreeper buying her time the other cocoons were opening, so she only managed to cure half. That left a total of fifteen still coming for the both of them.

She reached under her skirt and pulled out a tranq gun, already preloaded with the antidote. Unfortunately, she only had five shots loaded, everyone else would have to be held down. “Aim for the front,  _liebling,_  don’t worry about the rest.”

She took careful aim and made sure every shot counted. “Let’s see,” she thought aloud while reloading. “I got ten in their cocoons, five with the guns, and Nightcreeper immobilized five of them when we first came in.” She let a drone phase through her when it tried to tackle her. “And he’s gotten five more since then so that only leaves the remaining five.”

Nightcreeper was having the time of his life, teleporting around, throwing drones into each other, and stomping on legs to break them. His occasional wild laughter would cause the drones to stop in their tracks, making it even easier for him. Before she could join the fight, he had managed to subdue the last ones, in one case dropping a crate on top to pin it in place.

Colombina sighed and began injecting the drones. She  _hated_  being useless. “Need some help,  _liebe_?”

“Yes, please. Hold that one down.” She pointed to the one pinned under a crate. Nightcreeper landed on him (or her), easily pressing down on carapaced shoulders and forcing the drone to hold out an arm. Colombina stepped quickly around the snapping mandibles and pressed the injector against the offered limb. As they went around each drone slipped into unconsciousness until there was only the sound of their footsteps and the green man’s mad giggles. Once done, she held out her hand for the communicator.

Nightcreeper scooped her up again before handing it to her (fortunately he carried it in the boa, otherwise she probably would have dropped it), then bounded up the stacks of boxes until they were back on the roof. She waited for him to put her down, but he merely nuzzled her hair. Giving it up as a lost cause, she activated the communicator. “This is Team Wacko, calling the White Witch. We’ve got a nest of thirty civilians in New Gotham’s warehouse district. Immobilized and darted, but they’ve got broken bones and bruises. Please come down with medical aid immediately.” She checked her supplies. “Bring another set of antidotes when you come.” After receiving the acknowledgment of the message she turned off the communicator option but left the homing beacon on.

They waited. Since she had asked for more antidote, it might take them a while to actually get here. She expected the other to let her go and start bouncing around again, but the green man seemed content to stay and one place while playing with her hair. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“You just did,  _meine susse_ , but you can ask another. Your wish is my command, after all.”

“When we first met … at ACE Chemicals, why did you speak up for me?”

He giggled while burying his face in her hair again. She could feel it rumbling his chest. “When I first saw you … I thought one with such beautiful eyes should not look so dead.” He pulled away then slipped a hand under the chin so he could look at her face. “You look alive now. Sad still, but no longer waiting for death.”

Colombina could do nothing but stare. How had he known that? She truly had been waiting for death with the Hyena. She knew even with her power, one day there would be a bullet with her name on it or that perhaps she would piss him off too much. But when she’d seen him cower from the man still holding her, she had felt the first spark of hope in a long time. She didn’t know anyone except other criminals and she had nowhere to go, but at least now she could get away.

Fortunately for Colombina’s pride, the White Witch showed up, sparing her from talking about the revelation. As soon as they had the new batch of antidotes and the tracker was fired up, the two of them were on the move again.

“I’ve got another signal again! This time it’s really strong, so it’s probably the original.” Once more the older man had picked her up again, while she directed him to where Abominite was. Halfway there she picked up something else. “Oh, it looks like Dark Claw got there first. Should we intervene?”

Wild laughter hurt her ears again. “Oh  _liebe_ , you have no idea how many times Dark Claw’s needed me to save him from something! He’ll be _befriedigt_ to see us!”

“Unless that word means annoyed, I don’t think so,” she grumbled, holding tight to the boa.

When they arrived, they were just in time to see Dark Claw knocked into an alley and tied up with mucus. While Nightcreeper leaped to engage, Colombina floated down to help her foster father. “Ewwww … “ She reached out, placed her hand on Dark Claw’s head and phased him out of the mucus.

In the meantime Nightcreeper was jumping around, teleporting behind Abominite to punch the criminal, occasionally mocking him by doing a handstand and attacking him with his feet. When Abominite screamed, “Stop that!” Nightcreeper sped up, closed in, reached up … and then stopped bare inches from the other man’s face. “Okay!”

Then he kicked him in the groin.

Dark Claw winced, but Colombina took the moment to phase through the criminal, making sure disrupt the nerve system on her way through. Abominite wasn’t like his drones, there was no cure for what he had become. That meant they couldn’t knock him out with the antidote, but he wouldn’t be getting up for a while after what she did, even if it wasn’t permanent damage.

While Dark Claw finished handcuffing Abominite and dealt with the police, she and Nightcreeper escaped away, with Colombina once again being carried by the maniac.

“My turn to ask a question!”

“Hmmm, go ahead.”

“I want to show you something. Something that will make you smile, really smile like that stuffed dragon Sparrow got you for your birthday. But not just smile, it will make you laugh too. Will you trust me on this?”

She stared at him, blue eyes wide. “Are you … are you asking me on a date?”

“Mmmaaayyybbbeee.”

There were so many strange implications about this question, so many terrible consequences she could imagine. And yet … this was the one person she thought could help her when she hit rock bottom. And he hadn’t let her down yet.

On the other hand, he was also completely insane and she knew that Ryder sometimes regretted his actions as Nightcreeper.

“Ask me again when you’re sober.” He laughed at that, although he managed to reduce the volume to a painless chuckle. “I will!” He continued to bound over the roofs, getting them back to their rendezvous point.


	11. Gifts

 Nightcreeper giggled to himself as he looked up at the Misfits’ Tower.  His layover in Jump City was only for a few hours, but that was enough time to stop by and deliver a gift to dear Kätzchen.  It was unfortunate that he couldn’t stay long enough to see her and the rest of the team back from the mission, but Kurt Ryder did have an important interview tomorrow.  He’d just have to settle for leaving his calling card.

Each Misfit (with the exception of Shatterstarfire) had contributed to the Tower’s defense system.  Beating the various security devices was always a fun challenge.

Piotr’s automatic grid was always easy to bypass.  But to be fair, Ferro Man was concerned with a full-scale assault on the tower.  Automatic guns, electric fences, land mines, ballistic missiles, and anti-energy shielding were fairly easy to avoid when sensors were calibrated for several-ton tanks and planes or energy signatures in the terawatts or enough metal to build your own hardware store.  The maniac easily found the turrets for the automatic guns (both ordinary lead and mazers) and adorned them with the artificial flower wreaths he had brought with him.

Rahne’s organic measures were more creative but equally easy.  Poison oak, Africanized killer bees, rattlesnakes and poodle-dog bushes, none of that mean anything to a person who can teleport straight to your front door.  He did take the time to drop off some steaks for the guard dogs and some catnip for the guard cats (he still had no idea if those were actually a thing or just Aconite pulling his leg), it was just a nice thing to do.

Jubilee’s contribution was probably the most conventional but effective in the ordinary run of things.  But cameras don’t mean much to a guy who can go invisible and it doesn’t matter how good your locks, safety glass, and security screens are if he’s just going to climb outside the building and bypass them.  The motion detector was probably his favorite bit, easily beaten by moving slowly, most of the sound waves being absorbed by his fur.  But just to make sure Sparrow didn’t feel left out, he brought a lovely bed sheet, that he set up on top of the tower as a flag.

In all honesty, Ilyana’s magical wards probably gave him the most problems.  He wasn’t a magical user himself so the best he could do for detection was the feel of his fur standing on end and the smell of ozone in the air.  And Martenitsi liked to move her wards around once in a while so he couldn’t even memorize where they were.  Still, much like Ferro Man, Martenitsi’s wards were designed to foil other magic users.  The most they could do to him was give him a bit of a shock and he could shake that off easily.  A little graffiti to point out her blind spots probably would not go amiss.

Dear Kitty’s share of security was always so theatrical.  Infrared laser trip wires, pressure plates, thermal sensors, anything ever used in a movie, Colombina had adapted it into practical service.  But they were easy, not quite as easy as avoiding Ferro Man’s and Aconite’s defense systems, but still … these devices had the drawback of taking time to install and generally needing to be integrated into the structure.  He could not beat them, but all he needed to do was memorize where he had tripped them last time and avoid those areas.  They only changed whenever the Tower needed to be rebuilt.

Finally, Nightcreeper made it up to the window of Colombina’s room.  A quick teleport and he was in.  The room looked soft, with frilly curtains and a light blue color scheme.  But a more discerning eye would notice the lack of pictures and personal effects, signs that young girl was still recovering from trauma.  Nightcreeper’s ever-present grin slid into a frown.  “Ah, well, perhaps  _meine geschenke_  will help.”  With that, he settled the flowers and framed picture on the nightstand and laid a box on the bed.

From here he could see the woods just outside the gate.  Another quick bamf and he as outside, with much less effort.  “Maybe I should just teleport up to her window next time.”  He turned to observe his work.  “Oh, but where’s the fun in that?”

* * *

Sparrow looked over the Tower.  Ferro Man was collecting the fake flowers while Aconite had run off to ‘Make sure that lunatic hadn’t harmed her babies.’  Shatterstarfire was taking pictures while a steaming Martenitsi was conjuring water to scrub the graffiti (images of various Misfits in less-than-flattering poses and poetry that was just on the right side of obscene) off the tower.  A fluorescent pink sheet (God, she hoped that wasn’t used) capped it off as a flag.

“Well, no need to wonder who’s been here while we were away.” she sighed.

* * *

Colombina sighed and flopped down on her bed.  The entire afternoon had been spent cleaning up Nightcreeper’s pranks and redesigning the whole security system.  She would dearly like to know how he kept breaking in.  Or why he kept breaking in.  Sometimes it would be to deliver a message from the JLX, but other times it seemed to be just for entertainment.  Either way, it was a warning sign that the Misfits needed to up their defenses.

She frowned as she felt something poking her in the back.  Getting up she realized that she had landed on a small, flat, gift-wrapped box.  As she stared, she also noticed the picture and flowers placed on the stand.

The picture was the first thing she examined.  Small, with a tasteful black frame, it had been taken the day the Misfits had been declared an official team of the JLX.  There was a larger version up in the common room, and Sparrow had a copy from a newspaper up on her cork board, but Kitty hadn’t bothered to get one.  This was a surprisingly thoughtful present.  Kurt must have picked it out while sober.

She next turned to the flowers.  A cheerful green vase contained a few sprays of sweet peas, white, blue and deeper burgundy.  The picture was nice, but this actually made her smile.  Not many people knew that sweet pea was her favorite flower, it warmed her heart to see it.

Finally, Kitty opened the box.  She stared at it for a few minutes then face-palmed.  “Trust ‘Creeper to be sweet enough to give me a sentimental picture, a lovely flower, then to be ridiculous enough to ruin it with the actual gift.”  She plucked the forest green silk satin bra and panties from the box.

“Wait a minute, how did he know my size?”


	12. Enchanted

Ilyana huffed and slammed her door shut. When Sparrow had announced that the newest mission only needed three people she had leaped for the chance to have some time off. Had she thought about it a little harder, she would have realized that meant being stuck with Koriand’ru (the bitch) and Rahne (the zealot) and would have gone with the others. As it was, the two of them had not stopped fighting since the car had gone out of view. It didn’t help that they both had issues with her too. Rahne’s upbringing in a cult had left her with a very dim view of magic in general. Koriand’ru was just being her usual arrogant, autocratic, narcissistic self, unfortunately without any of the older team members present to shut her down. She thought she was better than Ilyana and Rahne and that she should be in charge. Ilyana would have rather licked a sparking socket than obey.

The resident magic user was currently wrapped up in a description of a battle between the sorcerers Gravemoss and Shrill. She wasn’t quite sure which magic user had ultimately won, the or even if either had survived. The descriptions of the two were quite neutral, bordering on vague. She wondered if this account was possibly written by a third party, maybe some ancient historian reporting on an even more ancient battle? Assuming the whole thing wasn’t made up.

 _It was real. We were real_.

She dropped the book with a cry. “Who said that?”

 _Ouch_.

The blonde turned and looked down at the carpet. “The book?”

_Yes, of course._

She carefully picked it up. “Books don’t usually talk.”

_Books usually aren’t alive. Not to mention you did just drop me on my spine a moment ago._

She flushed.  _“_ Sorry about that. Who are you?”

_Since you’ve been reading the story you must have a guess. Yes, I’m one of the sorcerers from the battle. Gravemoss, at your service._

“The necromancer?”

_We get a bit of bad reputation, but really we’re no worse than any of the other disciplines. You should have met Shrill, manipulator of words, of men, of souls. But no one states that all telepaths are bad based on her actions._

“Really? You have to tell me more.”

* * *

A week later and Ilyana thought she was in love. While the three senior members of the Misfits were away, she had isolated herself away from the fighting between Shatterstarfire and Aconite. Instead, she spent time with Gravemoss, talking about their lives (hers in the present, his before Shrill had trapped him in a book). He had even begun teaching her magic, spells, and powers far beyond the limitations the White Witch had imposed on her. Ilyana was eager to learn, not just for the power offered but for the chance to truly meet Gravemoss, in the flesh rather than a golem conjured from the pages of a book.

_It’s time._

“Yes. I’m ready.” The countercurse came in several parts. The first was a potion made from silver dust, rose petals and salt water. Once that had been carefully sprinkled over the book (being careful not to damage the pages), she set it in the center of a magic circle, each cardinal point had another book from her library. Finally came the incantation.

A lightning bolt came from nowhere and split open the roof of her room. A blazing white fire sprung up from the book, too bright for her to look at. When it had died away, a man stood there. Young, well-muscled with long white hair, dressed in only some ragged blue pants. Exactly how he had said he looked. The sorcerer looked down at his arms, stretched and smiled. “It’s been so long.” He looked up at her with piercing blue eyes. “Ilyana?”

She had to swallow a few times before she could speak. “Yes?”

“You look more beautiful than I had ever imagined. Come to me, my love.” She went willingly to his embrace. He leaned down to kiss her.

Ilyana had led a sheltered life, she had never shared anything but the most chaste and platonic kisses with her relatives and friends. This was warm and deep and anything but platonic. When their lips parted she felt dizzy with rapture.

Rapture, and maybe something else. She felt weak, falling to her knees in front of Gravemoss. Surely that hadn’t been all from the kiss, had it? It didn’t feel like a lack of oxygen. Instead … her eyes widened as she realized something.

As part of his mentoring of the Misfits, Nightcreeper had gotten some members of the JLX to stop by and occasionally train them. On one of those occasions, Ilyana had the misfortune to be paired with his sister, Runaway, and gotten drained nearly to unconsciousness. That’s what this felt like! She had been drained!

“Oh don’t worry my love. It will all come back eventually. Or rather, it would, if I was so foolish as to let you live beyond today.” Gravemoss raised his hand and a fireball appeared. The most basic of all spells, but now she was too weak to defend herself. Too weak to even dodge. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. Her last thoughts were of her brother and how devastated he would be over her death.

But when fiery pain and death did not materialize, she became confused. Looking up, she saw what had stopped her imminent murder. Standing behind Gravemoss was a man. Or was it?

Ilyana had heard several people compare the Nightcreeper to a demon. This … person blew those comparisons out of the water. Red skin, horns, even a tail that was currently crushing the hand that Gravemoss had used to summon the fireball. “Well done, maggot. You’ve managed to escape your cell. However, you failed to realize that such a flamboyant accomplishment would draw the attention of all who observe the spiritual plane.”

“L-lord Belasco-hurlk!” A red hand reached out and tightened on the sorcerer’s throat.

“I’ve not forgotten the turn you’ve served me. Merely thankful that I was the first to arrive. I can take my pound of flesh and the others can have what remains when I’m through.” The demon, Lord Belasco apparently, looked down at Ilyana. She shrank away from those gold eyes. She was still drained and doubted that she could even begin to put up a fight. “Ilyana Rasputina, I presume?”

She wanted to squeak in fear but forced herself to take a deep breath instead. No, if she was going to die now, she’d die on her feet. Before there hadn’t been time to even think, but now was something else. If this was it, then she’d try to do her friends and her brother proud. So she forced herself to stand and straightened up until she could look the demon in the eye. “That’s my name, yes.”

“Hmmm,” a cruel smirk made it’s way across the red face. “What amazing potential you have. You’re going to be quite the thorn in the future.” Ilyana couldn’t keep her knees from trembling, but she stayed upright and continued to stare Belasco in the face. She didn’t know who or what he was, but it was pretty clear that even if he saved her, he wasn’t on the side of the angels.

“Still you’ve done me a favor by drawing this errant novice out from his sanctuary. I believe it would only be fair for me to let you go today.” Saying that the demon turned his attention to Gravemoss. The necromancer had been clawing at the hand squeezing his throat. Belasco dropped him, but before the other could do anything else, a red spade tail whipped out and struck the white-haired man in the temple. Gravemoss’s eyes fluttered while he tried to stay conscious, but then rolled up and closed. The necromancer would have slumped to the floor, but the demon grabbed him by his collar and hoisted him into the air easily. “Farewell, Illyana Rasputina. We will meet again, though under less pleasant circumstance.” With that, demon and cargo both disappeared in a puff of ill-smelling smoke.

Ilyana leaned against the remaining wall. Before she could really think about what had happened, she heard a crash. Turning she saw an elephant clearing debris away from a hole in the wall. The elephant turned, noticed her standing, then shrank into the familiar figure of Rahne. “Ilyana, what happened? We saw a flash of light, then we heard a loud boom and when I got to your room the roof and walls were in pieces! What’s going on?”

Oh, she wasn’t looking forward to explaining this.


	13. Voxx 21

“Yay! It’s time to really paaarrrtttyyy!” Jubilee made her way over to the Iceberg Lounge, proudly presenting her driver’s license to the bouncer guarding the entrance. With a bemused look, he glanced at the others.

“Licenses?”

“Not like you haven’t seen us before,” muttered Logan, but sullenly handed his over. The bouncer dutifully checked each one and passed them through, but paused when he got to Ilyana. He raised an eyebrow at the birth date but handed it back. “Under twenty-one are fine to enter, but may not order alcohol.” With that, he also gave her a wristband.

As they made their way to the reserved table, Ilyana started complaining. “Americans are so silly about this. Back in Russia, the drinking age is sixteen. And Mama and Papa have been letting me have sips of wine at parties since I was twelve.”

“But we’re not in Russia now. As they say: when in Rome, do as the Romans do.” Kurt Ryder handed his jacket over to Jay at the coat check and gestured for the others to do the same. Piotr and Illyana followed his example, but the others kept their jackets.

Logan snorted. “I’m surprised you follow the law, Kurt. Isn’t the legal drinking age in Germany also sixteen?”

“It is,” agreed the talk-show host. “But in case you’ve forgotten Logan, we’ve got reputations to maintain. It’s bad enough we’re taking an underage lady to a nightclub, let’s not defame our characters even more by letting her get drunk.”

“Sorry Ilyana,” the Asian came around and hugged her teammate. “But Ryder’s got a point. You’ll just have to wait until you turn twenty-one too.”

Once they got to their table there was a demi bottle of champagne waiting for them. “That your birthday gift for Jubilee?” Kitty asked Kurt. He shook his head.

“Nope, that’s mine,” said Logan. “Jubilee has this long list of things she wants to try, so I figure this one’s pretty harmless.” He turned to glare at his erstwhile ward. “Only a few drinks though. This is probably the best time for you to experience being drunk, but I don’t want this evening ending with a trip to the hospital.”

“If all I wanted was to be safe, I would’ve had a party at the mansion. I want to live a little Logan!” She unwrapped the foil on the top and then tried to open the cage. After a few attempts, she held it out. “Uh, how do you open this thing?”

Logan shrugged, he only drank the stuff when ‘socializing’. “Give it to me,” sighed Kurt. A few quick twists and he poured a small amount for the birthday girl and each guess (minus Ilyana, who got Sprite instead). “ _Genieße das Leben ständig! Du bist länger tot als lebendig!”_

The two Russians chimed in. “ _Ваше здоровье!”_

Logan and Kitty kept it simple with a “Happy Birthday!” from each of them.

Jubilee made up for that. “Here’s to no more getting up for 6 AM meets after all-night stakeouts! No more practicing till all my joints hurt-”

“Are we celebrating your birthday or mourning the end of your gymnastics career?” asked Piotr.

“No more creepy pervert doctors-”

“I told you, we could sue him if you want,” muttered Logan into his glass.

“No more having to watch every calorie I eat! Yay!” Jubilee clinked her glass against Kitty’s. “I’m going to eat so much and get so fat just because!”

“I guess we’re celebrating the end of her gymnastics career,” Kitty told Piotr wryly. After everyone had drunk their champagne (or Sprite), Raven came up to take their orders. Most of them had been there before but Ilyana and Piotr needed a few minutes to decide on their order. While they decided, Kurt had a suggestion. “Why not let the birthday girl choose our drinks for the first round?”

“I’m fine with that,” agreed the older Russian.

Kitty shrugged. “Okay.”

“You are so going to regret this,” said Logan, but nodded anyway.

“Ah, but just remember, no alcohol for ‘Yana!” The blonde pouted at being excluded, but Ryder remained firm on that point. By that time Raven had come around again and they were ready to order.

Once Penguin’s henchwoman had gone, Logan turned around to shoot a glare to Jubilee. “You ordered me Fosters?”

“Isn’t that what they drink in Australia?”

“One, I’m  _Canadian_ , not Australian. And two, Fosters is a piss poor beer.”

“Oops?”

“Is there a reason you ordered me ‘Sex on the Beach’?” Now it was Kitty’s turn to complain.

“You look like a person who would?”

“What does that even mean?”

“Well, you do like sweet things … “

“Katzchen, you can trade your cocktail for my Kirschwasser. I’m not fond of that liquor anyway.”

“Oh well,” the young leader of the Misfits turned to Piotr. “At least you like your plain vodka, right?” The Russian smiled, but there was a slight tilt to his lips that showed he wasn’t too happy about his order to. On the other hand, Ilyana was actually pleased with her Blueberry Moscow Mule Mocktini. She might not have been able to drink, but at least she could have fun with the others.

There food and drinks were brought out by Cardinal, who frowned when she saw the news reporter with them. Tapping Jubilee and Kitty on the shoulders she leaned down to whisper in their ears. “Watch out for that one, girls. He’ll sleep with anything legal with a skirt and a pulse.” Unfortunately, there was a lull in the conversation just at that moment and everyone at the table heard her. Kurt turned red and tried to bury his attention in his food.

“Sssooo … explanations?” Kitty smirked at him.

He sighed. “It’s not that bad. I just went on a bit of a rebound after Kokoro rejected me. And it was years ago.”

“Wait a minute,” interjected Piotr. “Kokoro, you don’t mean Tatsu Braddock, do you? Captain Krypton’s sister?”

“Yes, that one. Why?”

“And didn’t you also flirt with Gloria Mundi, who’s now his wife?”

“She wasn’t his wife when I was flirting with her.” Ryder skulled another glass of champagne.

“Finally, aren’t you the son of Kantique, the assassin who killed the Braddocks’ parents?”

“To be fair, we only found out about that two years ago.” By now the other members of Team Misfit were staring at him. Logan, who knew all of these things years ago ignored them and focused on inhaling his steak. Once he was done, he started to crack open the lobster he had ordered, taking much more care to savor the crustacean.

“Wow,” said Piotr. “No wonder you don’t want to work with Excalibur. Captain Krypton would probably punch your head off.”

“That was a consideration when accepting the offer to mentor Team Misfit.”

Jubilee looked like she was about to burst. “It’s starting to sound like you’ve managed to tick off every other team you could work with.”

“I’m not that bad. And it’s not like I did most of those things with intent,” He straightened up. “Except the prank phone calls to Dr. Strangefate. Those I admit to doing on purpose.”

By this time it was time for the second round of drinks. Somewhat suspicious, Logan, Piotr, and Ilyana went up to the bar with Jubilee. They were taking no chances that she’d order something completely off the wall for them. That left Kurt and Kitty at the table. For a few minutes, they sat in silence. “I hope you don’t zink less of me for zat.”

She looked over, blue eyes clearly confused. “I’m not sure why my opinion would matter but no. I was there when you and Angelhawk had your feud over her, remember? As you said, it was years ago.”

“You know exactly vhy your opinion matters.” A few more minutes. “May I ask you somezing?”

Kitty smiled. “You just did. But you can ask me another question.”

The older man hesitated. “It’s about your time with the Hyena, so feel free not to answer if it makes you uncomfortable. Vhile you vere vith him, did ze  _zwei_  of you ever … “ He visibly struggled to finish the sentence.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh. My. God. No! How many times are people going to ask me that? No. No. We never bumped uglies or knocked boots or did the horizontal tango together, or whatever awful euphemism you were about to come up with.”

“I vas going to call it ‘boinking’.” He finished off the last of her cocktail.

“Your accent’s coming out again.”

“ _Vier_  years of voice classes to lessen it, und two drinks zen  _Ich_  sound like  _Ich_  just got here.” He spent a few minutes trying to locate the others. Logan, Piotr, and Ilyana were still at the bar. Jubilee had left them but was making her way over to the band. Probably had some sort of request for them. “ _Ich_  vanted to know about it because  _Ich_  have somezing to ask you.”

“Well, go ahead then.”

He gestured with his chin over at a nearby couple. “Yes, I’m looking at them. What about them?”

The German sighed. “ _Ich_ vant vhat zey have.”

“A relationship? But we’re already … “ Then she realized what he meant. “Oh Kurt, is that really such a good idea? I was the chief minion of a supervillain after all.”

“Not ashamed of you Kitty. Nor do ve have to shout it from ze roofs. But vould like to stop hiding from our  _freunde_  und families.”

Kitty raised another argument. “People will say I’m too young.”

“You’re mature for your age. Not many have had ze experiences you have. Und most people are  _dummkopfen._ ”

“Or after your money.”

He just gave her a look, dark blue eyes sad but clear and steady. He might have been buzzed, but he was sincere in his emotions. And it wasn’t like they hadn’t had this argument before, back when they first started dating.

“Alright then. But let’s stay discreet, shall we? I don’t want this hurting you.” With that she leaned over to kiss him. He returned the gesture enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his lap. Kitty was pretty sure she heard a camera go off, but if there was one thing the Iceberg Lounge was good for it was discretion. The Penguin would probably have the paparazzi photos confiscated and the shooter ejected without proof before she bothered to move.

Unfortunately, the sound of Jubilee announcing that she was going to perform a striptease down to her birthday suit in honor of the fact it was her birthday, was much better at getting their attention. Breaking apart they saw the tiny Asian on one of the undamaged tables near the front. At her feet, Piotr and Logan tried to yank her down while Ilyana just laughed from the shelter of another corner.

“How much did she have to drink?” mused Kitty.

“Half a glass of champagne and a ‘Screaming Orgasm’. She’s more of a lightweight than I expected.”

“First time drinking alcohol, aside from that thing with Alfred’s Fruitcake. Not to mention she’s only about 150 cm tall, and a thin build due to gymnastics.” Kitty shook her head. “I suppose we’re lucky she didn’t just pass out.” She got out of the booth on one side. “Shall we assist?”

“Rasputin looks like he needs it. Logan’s just a little too short to reach her.” He exited from the other. One last kiss, then Kurt began bulldozing his way through the crowd to reach the other Misfits while Kitty trailed along in his wake.


	14. Family Ties

_Takes place no more than a month before ‘Fashion Faux-Pas’._

“- _die nachricht weitergeben. Ja, wir sehen uns im Dezember. Habe dich lieb Mama.“_ Kurt hung up the phone and turned to the other members of the New Blood. “There, you see? Irene’s perfectly fine. That letter you received was clearly some sort of prank.”

Runaway just curled further in herself. She muttered in a low voice, “That’s good tah know. But Ah don’t think the letter was referring to our  _foster_  mother.”

Kurt frowned. “In that case just disregard it. We certainly owe no care to the woman who abandoned both of us.”

At this point, Kokoro broke in. “Wait, I thought the two of you were only foster siblings. Are you saying you’re actually related?”

The older man took up the responsibility of answering questions. Clearly, Anne-Marie wasn’t up to participating in long discussions right now. “Yes, actually. Irene never told us, but it’s the same name on the birth certificates. Raven Darkholme.”

“So you have the same mother  _and_ foster mother? That’s an odd coincidence.”

“No foolin’.” Runaway roused herself to help her brother explain. “Irene was listed as legal guardian by my parents. When Dad died, she came tah the States tah adopt me.”

The British ninja turned to the other half of the sibling pair. Kurt just shrugged. “I just got dumped on Irene’s doorstep. I guess since Raven saw she was willing, she felt fine dumping a second kid on her.”

“Irene and Raven are friends. That’s what Irene says.”

“Mom puts up with way too much shit from this Raven chick.”

“Okay, time out.” Wraith lifted his hands from where he was massaging his girlfriend’s shoulders. “We’re getting off topic heah. The point is-” The pitch-black man turned to the ninja, who only having walked in during Kurt’s phone call had missed some important parts. “Runaway has received a lettah, stating that if she didn’t come to the-” He took a quick glance at the paper on the table. “Dworshak Dam, in Clearwater, her mother would be killed. The question is, do we go or not?”

“I vote no. We have no proof that letter isn’t a hoax or a prank or a trap.” Ryder crossed his arms and tactfully didn’t mention the lack of caring on his part. It was pretty clear that wasn’t a winning argument with his little sister.

“Not your letter, mine. Therefore my decision. Ah’m going.” Anne-Marie was usually fairly easy-going, but on this issue, she wasn’t going to budge.

Finally, Kurt lowered his eyes. “Fine. But not by yourself. I’ll accompany you as Nightcreeper.” He looked around. “Anyone else wants to come?”

“Ah’m coming!” Announced Todd. “It wouldn’t be right if Ah didn’t come to support my girlfriend in her hour of need.”

“I’m not,” stated Angelhawk. “Actually I’d prefer if most of us stay here. Amazon and Dark Claw currently have a lead on Green Skull and are pretty close to tracking him down. We need to stay here to provide back-up once they find him.” Runaway looked up with shock, fear, and betrayal in her amber eyes. “A-although I guess we can spare one more person to go on this … snipe hunt.”

For a while there was silence. Kurt wondered if maybe he should back out. Most of the JLX was uncomfortable dealing with Nightcreeper, perhaps they’d have more volunteers if he didn’t go. Just as he was about to make the offer, Kokoro spoke up. “I’ll go.” She turned a glare on the taller man. “But just to be clear, I’m doing this for Runaway, not you.”

He rolled his blue eyes. “ _Ja, ja_. I’m over your.already. Stop projecting.”

“Fine.” The young woman with the bi-colored hair took charge, knowing that the sniping would go on for hours if no one did. “We’ll leave tahmarrah, in the late afternoon. That’ll give us enough time to case the joint before we attack.”

* * *

“Kokoro, what do you sense?” Asked Wraith.

“About two dozen cult members, armed and acting as guards. Not exactly brilliant but we’ll have problems if they gang up together on any of us.” The ninja’s eyes glow pale white in the dim lighting. “A couple more inside, probably high ranking members.” She frowned. “Several anxious individuals, but no one panicking or despairing the way a hostage would. If they’ve got her, she’s been knocked out.”

“Can’t rule it as a prank yet then.” Runaway bit down on her lip nervously. “Okay, Nightcreeper, Wraith, you’re on distraction duty. Kokoro and I will sneak it while their attention is focused on you.”

“Hihihi! As you wish,  _meine schwester_.” Nightcreeper followed words to actions, teleporting directly in front of one of the spotlights. While the cult members cried out in surprise and opened fire on the invulnerable mutate, Wraith charged a handful of cards and threw them at the helicopters they could see parked on the tarmac. Amidst the smoke and confusion, Kokoro and Runaway made their way to the wall. Kokoro cut a hole in and they slipped away from the fighting.

Inside the telepathic ninja guided their way, avoiding the guards rushing out to reinforce their fellows. Finally, the two of them made their way to a large door. Behind it they could hear a woman calling out for help. Runaway looked at her co-worker. Kokoro cast out her psychic senses. “Only one living signature. But muted. I think there’s some shielding in the walls.”

“Okay,” said Runaway, and promptly punched the reinforced steel door in. The two New Blood burst into the room, but unfortunately, no hostage did they see. Instead, it was, “Graydon Quinn!” The leader of the Pro-Earth movement, anti-alien movement.

“Hah! I knew that letter would send the JLX running to investigate. It’s only too bad that the other half of my trap didn’t pan out! But I can kill the two of you and claim a job well done!” The madman cackled behind his glass cage, pressing a button that called up a set of reinforced walls and opened up some spray nozzles.

“Gas! Quick, make a hole before we’re overwhelmed!” Runaway tried to punch an opening in the wall, but the gas made her dizzy and weak. Kokoro was no better. She raised her swords to cut they’re way to freedom but saw them fizzle and fade away. Strange, she should have greater resistance to the gas than Runaway but instead, her strength was fading even faster. As she looked at the glowing green mist she realized why. “Runaway, they’ve got  _kryptonite_  mixed in!”

The human woman stopped trying to punch her way through the walls and started trying to block the nozzles. But there were too many and placed too far apart. At the going rate, they were both doomed.

Then an explosion blasted one of the walls out. Debris showered over the two women, hammering down on their bodies and cutting into their skin. But it also brought blessedly fresh air as well so they didn’t care. As they took a few moments to recover, gunfire cut through the air … and the glass walls of the control center Creed had been hiding in. A pale woman with red hair, dressed in white and wielding a large automatic stepped into the room. “Anne? Anne, are you here?” she cried out. When she saw the two of them, she rushed over.

The woman hesitated when she got there, looking at Kokoro then Runaway. But when the latter looked up, exposing the starburst in her hair, the red-head rushed over to her with an expression of relief. “Oh thank the Gods, you’re still alive! I thought I was too late!” With that, she shoved the automatic off to her back and helped the younger woman stand up.

As the three of them made their way out of the compound, Kokoro got a good look at their rescuer. “Kantique!” she hissed, summoning her swords again. They were short and the blades looked brittle, but she dare not go undefended in this creature’s company. “How dare you show your face here?”

The older woman looked at her coldly, clearly not recognizing her from their first encounter. “Rescuing my daughter of course. Who are you?”

“My name is Elizabeth Tatsu Braddock. You killed my parents. Prepare to die.” With that, she lunged towards the other two.

Kantique moved her daughter to a sheltered position behind her, using the gun to block Kokoro’s strikes. “Braddock? Braddock? Oh yes, the Kryptonian survivor who went native on this planet. I knew I should have spent more time cleaning up loose ends.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore! This is one loose end intent on cleaning up you!” Kokoro continued to slash at the alien assassin while Kantique maneuvered her towards the edge of the dam. Finally, the red-head side-stepped a thrust, moving into the ninja’s personal space. One hand on her shoulder, a well-braced stance, and a quick shove were all she needed to knock the other over the guardrail.

As Kokoro screamed, she felt someone grab her, then smelt a familiar puff of sulfur and the usual disorientation that accompanied Nightcreeper’s teleports. The two of them were back on the edge of the bridge, listening to Kantique answer Runaway’s questions. “I’ve had many children over the years. But you’re my only daughter. You matter more to me than all the rest.”

“Well, that answers some questions about my childhood,” muttered Nightcreeper, wrapping his tail around Kokoro to prevent her from going after Kantique again. “Mood lighting, action, the reveal after the fight, I give it four stars!”

“If Ah mean so much to you, why did you abandon father and Ah when Ah was only three?”

The older woman sighed. “I’m an interstellar assassin in the employ of Thanoseid. I stayed with Mark and you as long as I could. But Irene warned me that my enemies were catching up to me. I had to leave you for you to be safe.”

Runaway sank to her knees, shaking her head. The look on her face was disbelief warring with shock.

The other sighed. “Just stay away from your brother’s ploys in the future. Not that he’s going to be having a long one now.” She turned to where they could hear a helicopter rising. As it crested the dam they could see Graydon Quinn inside, a look of hate distorting his face. Upon seeing Runaway, Kantique, and Kokoro together, a look of unholy glee came upon him.

“All three alien bitches here together! Truly a sign from the Lord!” He tried to open fire, but Kantique was faster. She managed to clip his rotors with her spray, causing the helicopter to start spiraling down.

Runaway’s mind was still far away. “Wait, Graydon Quinn’s my brother too?”

“ _Half_ -brother. With some army officer named Creed Quinn. Don’t worry my dear, I’ll take care of him shortly.” With that the alien pulled a detonator out of nowhere- “Trouserspace!” crowed Nightcreeper- and pressed it. Explosions rocked the section of the bridge they were on, and it began to separate from the rest of the damn.

Upon seeing this, the green man grabbed Kokoro and his sister and teleported them back onto dry land. There they saw that section of the dam, plus thousands of tons of water go crashing down on the helicopter Quinn was on. After all the rumbling they, plus the exhausted Wraith (”Don’t go skipping out having fun without me,  _pardner_.” “ _Ja, ja, es tut mir leid.”)_ spent time looking for both Graydon Quinn and Kantique. But they turned up nothing.

* * *

Back at the station, Runaway and Wraith were taking time to recover in private. Nightcreeper had delivered a report of what happened, to the frustrated, irritable Dark Claw. As he applied the patch and started to shed fur and too sharp teeth and a tail, Kokoro decided to confront him.

“So your Mom’s Kantique.”

“Irene’s my mom,” he corrected forcefully. “Kantique’s just the glorified egg donor.”

“Runaway doesn’t see it that way.”

“Anne-Marie still idolizes Raven. It’ll take her a while to recover from the disappointment.”

“And you?”

The last of the fur fell away and dissolved on the breeze. Kurt shrugged and started putting on his everyday clothes (suit, shirt, tie and even matching vest). “I’ve always known that my mother must not have cared for me. The feeling’s mutual.”

Kokoro nodded but seemed distracted. When he was finally dressed, she sauntered over. “Stay away from me.”

“ _Was?”_

“I said, stay away from me. Stay away from my brother and Angelhawk too. And Gloria Mundi. Don’t ever go to England if you can help it.” She leaned up to speak directly into his ear. “If I ever fucking see you again, I’ll take your head off!”

With that, she stomped off. Wraith, who had slipped in as shadow while they weren’t paying attention turned to watch her go. Once the door had sealed behind her, he looked back at Ryder. “Did she mean that for the super-heroing as well? Because it’ll be hard to be on the same team if she wants to kill you every time she sees you.”

Kurt finished buttoning the vest and shrugged. “Ah, it’s alright. Dark Claw says he wants me to help mentor a new team that’s being created. So I was going to leave the New Bloods anyway.”

Wraith was less sanguine about the matter. “Hope you get along better with this one. God knows you can’t do any worse.”


	15. Food Network

_After ‘Christmas in July’ but before Colombina discovers that Ryder and Nightcreeper are the same person._

Kurt was just finishing up his list of questions for tonight’s live interview when the phone on his desk buzzed. Picking up the receiver, he spoke. “Good morning, Kurt Ryder speaking, who’s this?”

He heard the tinny voice of the front desk receptionist in return. “Ah, Ryder, there’s a young woman here, says her name is Kitty Pryde. She’s brought your lunch?” He hesitated before answering. His focus on social justice meant he occasionally had to field assassination attempts, and it wouldn’t be the first time someone had used the name of a friend to try to get to him. “She also said something about how the smell of burnt squid takes forever to clean up and that she’s blaming you.”

“Send her right up then.” He said with a smile. The burnt squid had been his attempt to make dinner for the Wayne household yesterday, probably not something an enemy would know about. It had prompted the entire household to eat out, but they did that often enough that it wouldn’t set off any alarms.

“You bastard, making me walk all the way down here just to deliver your lunch. You’re lucky we’ve got a half-day at school otherwise I’d just leave you to starve.”

“I could buy my own, but your cooking is so much better Kitty.” He said, eagerly digging into the paper bag she had brought him.

“Aww, no fair. I want a pretty girlfriend to bring me lunch too!” At the open doorway, Remington Cord and Vera Sweet were looking in. Cord had an open smile on his face, while Vera had a scowl.

“I’m not his girlfriend.” “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“She’d better not be.” Vera gave Kitty a thorough up-and-down and apparently approved. “She looks a little young for you, Ryder.”

Kitty bristled. “I’m seventeen.”

“And  _he’s_  twenty-nine. Watch out for cradle-robbers little girl.”

Kitty took the comment with ill-grace but refrained from arguing. As the two junior reporters walked over by the desk, she looked up at Remington Cord with an expression of awe on her face. He noticed and grinned down at her.

“Impressed? I’m flattered that you tossed Ryder over for plain old me.”

She shook her head, making her amber curls bounce. “Well, sort of, but not for the reasons you might think. You’re the fourth tall, black-haired, blue-eyed male athlete I’ve met in the past year. I’m just surprised at the coincidence.”

“Logan’s not tall.” Ryder interjected.

“Compared to me, everyone’s tall.”

“Oh and here I thought I could beat Ryder in the good looks department. Guess I’ll just have to settle for being younger and wittier.”

Kurt leaned forward, resting his chin on his clasped hands. “Younger, but not wittier. Also definitely poorer.”

“Enjoy your gold diggers, kraut. But seriously, if you’re not his girlfriend, why are you dropping off his lunch then?” Vera turned towards the teenager.

“Because I cooked it for him.”

“And he couldn’t cook for himself?”

Kitty gave them all an incredulous look. “Cook?  _Kurt_? How many people do you want to kill?”

The two junior reporters turned to look at Ryder. He nodded his head. “It’s true. Last time I cooked, I set the fridge on fire.”

Cord asked the obvious question. “And how long ago was that?”

“Last night.” A pregnant pause filled the air as two people tried to imagine how that could happen, and two others recalled the very vivid images of the previous evening. Shaking his head clear of the memories, Kurt turned back to his fellow reporters. “So I take it that you’re done with your interview with Oswald Cobblepot?”

“We are,” agreed Remington. “From what I can tell, this should probably go into entertainment or maybe food. He honestly seems to be going straight now.”

“We tried. I even snuck around the back, but the worst I could see was that he was slightly paranoid about security. And given his history, I can’t say I blame him.” Griped Vera, pointing to a stain on her skirt.

“Hmmm, Triple J will be disappointed, but not enough to demand changes. Have you decided who’s going to do the article?”

“I will,” announced the blonde. “He’s volunteered to do the editing this time.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Your name’s not going to be featured.”

“Entertainment’s not my thing. Besides, it will give me more time for my hobby.”

“What is your hobby?” asked Kitty, who had been watching the interaction with fascination. Ryder and Sweet groaned while Cord perked up.

“I’m glad you asked. I like to study cryptids.”

“Now you’ve done it.” whispered the eldest reporter. “He’ll talk about these things for hours. Your interest will die, be memorialized and forgotten before he stops.”

Remington gave them a mock glare. “You know, I was right about Abominite. There really was a horrible monster living in the sewers of New Gotham.”

“You were right about that,” conceded the female reporter. “But that was once, out of eight times. If you were a horse, I’d shoot you.”

“So who, or rather what, are you researching now?” asked Kitty, trying to keep the peace. Kurt would have told her it was futile.

“The Nightcreeper!”

“Who doesn’t  _exist_ ,” hissed Ryder. “Some of the others I could believe that they were possible, but this time you’re chasing a fantasy created by drunk criminals to explain to their bosses why they don’t have the money that they drank away.”

The younger man narrowed paler blue eyes at the other. “I’ve got over a dozen witness accounts, from people who _weren’t drunk_. I’ve got photographs of the graffiti he’s left behind. I’ve plenty of proof if you would care to observe.”

“Cryptids are your obsession, not mine.” Kurt sighed and turned back to Kitty, who was staring at them all with wide eyes. “I’m sorry you had to see that. So are you staying this afternoon or … “

“No, Jubilee’s got this anime club she wants me to attend. I’m on my way to that.” She made her way over to the door. “So, um, bye, uh?”

“I’m so sorry Kitty, I should have introduced you.” Kurt stood up and gestured to his right. “This is Vera Sweet. She works as the meteorologist for the station, but is looking to become a field reporter.” The two women gave each other a brief nod.

“And this,” now a gesture to the left. “Is my protege Remington Cord. Remi’s shows a lot of potential as a reporter. Someday he may be almost as famous as me!” Remington gave her a big smile and stepped up to shake her hand.

Kitty raised an eyebrow but accepted the handshake. “Damned by faint praise?” she whispered to the younger man.

“The faintest,” he agreed.

“Remi, Vera, this is Kitty Pryde. She’s Logan Wayne’s newest ward.”

Vera looked at her with cool eyes. “You’re living with Logan Wayne? Why on earth are you hanging around delivering this loser’s lunch?”

Kitty looked her straight in the eye. “Because he’s my guinea pig.”

Kurt shrugged. “It’s true. Kitty is learning to cook and needed someone to taste test her creations.”

Cord stared at his mentor. “You are an incredibly brave man.”

The youngest one shot him a glare. “Anyway, give me a call tonight and tell me how it tastes, alright?”

Ryder gave her a smile and a lopsided salute. “Will do. Give the others my apologies.”

Once she’d gone, Kurt turned to his protege. “I’m not that brave. She’s really an excellent cook.”

Cord wasn’t paying attention. “Seventeen, huh? Not that young actually. Not that young at all.”

Vera raised one hand and waved it in front of Remington’s dreamy eyes. “You’re going to regret introducing them one day.” she predicted when her fellow reporter didn’t even react.

Kurt just sighed and started to unwrap his lunch.


	16. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not actually part of the series, instead a dream I happened to have in the process of writing.

Kitty wakes up slowly, drifting up to consciousness. She can’t remember where she is or how she got here, but she’s lying on a bed, warm, sleepy and a little sore. A familiar soreness. There’s a moment’s panic before she remembers that it’s been years since Department K. Wherever she is probably safer than that.

She keeps her breathing slow, her muscles loose and her eyes shut while she reorients. What had happened last night? That’s right, Galactus. As Colombina, she had met many of the major figures of the world’s underbelly. From Green Skull to Dr. von Doom, to her own patron, the Hyena. Kitty had thought nothing could frighten her more than they had. She’d been wrong. Galactiac had been an entirely different level. The people she had met before had devastated lives, cities, and countries. Galactiac had been a planetary threat, so large that nothing she could do even mattered. She couldn’t fight against him, talk him down or even run away. It had been a humiliating experience.

The threat was gone and the world was saved, and Colombina had just wanted to go home and forget everything. She remembered meeting up with the Nightcreeper while the other Misfits were still filling out their reports, and he had eventually convinced her to go home to New Gotham with him. They’d been sort-of dating for a while and she needed a good laugh to feel alive again. So she’d agreed and they’d wandered around the city for a while. Somehow they’d ended up in his apartment (surprisingly expensive for a maniac Gothamite) and then …

Kitty scrunched up her face in worry. It’s not that she objected to sleeping with the Nightcreeper (and he’d been remarkably good too), but she was pretty sure he was only romancing her as a lark. She didn’t even know what his civilian identity was. This was going to put quite a damper on their relationship.

“Buck up, Kitty,” she whispered to herself. “You’re going to have to open your eyes to leave anyhow. You can deal with whatever revelations come from this. You’ve been through worse. Besides, you’ll probably never see him in his civilian identity again.” She shifted back to get a little room for herself and felt the arm around her waist tighten and pull her closer. The Nightcreeper, or whoever he was right now, gave a small snore. He was still asleep, maybe if she was quiet enough she could sneak out and put off this confrontation till later. Maybe if she was really lucky he’d just think it was all a dream and they could continue on as if nothing had changed.

She opened her eyes and saw … well, it was a very well built chest. No surprise, given how ‘Creeper went around wearing next to nothing. Pale, Caucasian pink, not green and furry, but she could see one of the patches that Dark Claw always made for the guy slapped haphazardly on a muscular bicep. This guy must have put it on after she had passed out. Moving her gaze up, she saw athletic shoulders, a prominent Adam’s apple and finally reached the man’s face. A very familiar face.

Oh hell, this was Kurt Ryder.

Well, that tore it, now she knew her relationship would never go anywhere. Kurt had never expressed any interest in her beyond that of a close friend. Nightcreeper really was just dating her on a whim or maybe out of pity, she couldn’t decide which was worse. And it’s not like she could just avoid him, he was Logan’s best friend. They see each other all the time.

Kitty started to phase out, too upset to even think of staying. Unfortunately, that woke up her bedmate, causing her to panic again and freeze in place. Sleepy blue eyes opened up and focused on her face. “Ah, Katzchen,” for a second Kurt appeared not to know what had happened and smiled at her. Kitty felt her heartbeat flutter in a familiar fashion and inwardly cursed herself. Then he looked around and the smile fell off his face as he realized what had occurred the previous night.

“Well, this is awkward.” He sat up in bed, unashamed of his nudity. “Would you like to take a shower first or shall I?”

She needed to find her clothes first; everything they had been wearing last night was scattered all over the place. “You can go first.”

* * *

“You know, if Remi Cord ever finds out about this, he’ll be so mad. Although it makes your continued insistence that Nightcreeper isn’t real quite comedically funny.”

“What better way to throw off suspicion? Besides, Remington Cord has several reasons to hate me by now.”

By the time she had made it to the kitchen, Kurt had had enough time to go out and buy some breakfast for them from the nearby 24-hour diner. “I would have cooked,” he apologized. “but … “

“I like living, thank you.” Kitty had wanted to get out as fast as possible, but fate seemed to have different plans. First, her idea of a quick rinse was defeated by the sheer grunge from yesterday’s fight. She’d ended up taking a full shower, having to use Ryder’s soap and shampoo. Then she found her clothes were in tatters. They’d been torn up in yesterday’s battle but Nightcreeper had ripped them completely to shreds at the start of the night. Only her belt, tights and boots were intact. She’d ended up grabbing one of his button up shirts to wear; the thing was so huge on her it could have been a dress. When she’d walked in the expression on his face had changed to something warm, almost coveteous but she wasn’t sure what it meant.

Kitty sat down. She really didn’t want to do this but better than letting it fester. “I don’t suppose we used protection, did we?”

Kurt coughed. “I’m afraid not. Anything we need to be concerned about?”

“I haven’t done anything since the Hyena recruited me from Department K. All my tests have been negative since then.”

He nodded. “My last test was six months ago and it was clean, and my last one night stand was before that. So at least that’s one thing out of the way. So about … “

“I’ll have Dr. Thompson issue me a day-after pill on Monday. So you don’t have to worry about that.”

A pregnant pause filled the air. Kitty couldn’t look him in the eye. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep away from Nightcreeper in the future.”

“ _Was_?”

“It’s one thing for people to talk about the Hyena’s whore and the maniac from New Gotham being a couple. It’s an entirely different thing when it’s the Hyena’s whore and the famous Kurt Ryder. I hadn’t realized you had so much to lose.”

“I didn’t think you disdained my company so much.”

“I don’t. But there’s no reason you should risk your reputation on your counterpart’s prank.”

“Why would you think our dating was a joke?”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s not like you’re actually attracted to me. Unless you’re claiming that the Nightcreeper is a separate personality to you and that’s not how Logan explained it to me.”

“Less a separate personality, more like me without my inhibitions.”

“Well inhibitions or not, I know I’m not your type. I’m nothing like Kokoro.”

“Which is a good thing. Besides, do you really think I would have slept with you, either as Kurt or as Nightcreeper, if I wasn’t attracted to you?”

She shook her head. Kurt dragged his chair over so that he could sit next to the young girl. “Logan is going to laugh so hard at me. I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask you out as myself for over a year, and now this happens.”

That startled Kitty. “Really?”

“I’ve been fond of you since the beginning. But for the past two years, I’ve thought about becoming more than friends. I’ve only been able to act on it as Nightcreeper though. And I’ve never seen any sign that you were interested in me as Kurt.”

“Of course I was interested. But celebrities don’t date pathetic hench-wenches who are still trying to earn everyone’s trust.”

“Celebrities are human and can’t help who they fall in love with either.” He took her hands. “Would you really consider dating me if I asked?”

She finally met his eyes and smiled. “Yes.”

The expression she got in return was full of relief and something else. To her surprise, he leaned forward and kissed. A little fast, but she kissed him back. Kurt pulled her into his lap and deepened the kiss. They parted for breath, but he just used the opportunity to move down her neck and start sucking on her pulse point.

Kitty was so distracted she hadn’t even realized they’d moved until she heard the squeak of his bedroom door opening. She was surprised to realize that he had picked her up and carried her in one arm back to the bedroom. “I always thought those mutagens had given you a boost in strength, but that’s not true is it?”

“They did, but not as much as people think.”

He carefully placed her on the bed, then crawled over to continue kissing her. Kitty recalled the same thing happening last evening, with the Nightcreeper looming over her before tearing at her suit. Kurt did the same thing, pulling away just long enough so that he could grab the collar of the shirt she was wearing and rip it open. Buttons flew everywhere. “Your shirt,” she tried to remind him.

“I have others.” He slid his hands up from her waist to cup her breasts. It was pretty clear where he intended this to go.

“Uh, not that this-” she gasped as Kurt began to toy with her nipples. “Isn’t great, but aren’t you moving a little fast?”

“You said you’d be willing to date me. I want to give you a reason not to regret that decision.” He paused then deliberately ground against her. In spite of herself, Kitty threw her head back and moaned, arching into him. “Several reasons.”


	17. Missing of the Minds (Crossover w/Dresden AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossover with incomplete and unposted Dresden AU.

Kitty would not admit it, but she always felt a little sick whenever she met a new alternate version of herself. Sometimes she could get over the feeling (meeting the Lightning Force version of herself had just made her sad and angry, and the Age of Apocalypse one had been a good friend once they got over the initial awkwardness) and sometimes she couldn’t (if she never met the Black Queen version again it would be too soon).

She hadn’t made up her mind about the newest set of dimension-hoppers. A wealthy, refined (or at least could put up a good facade) Logan who was best known for always being prepared and a good hand with technology? Jubilee leading her own team . . . and not a vampire? Yana focusing almost exclusively on white magic? Heck, at least their version of Piotr was almost exactly the same as the one she’d grown up with. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have known what to think.

Frankly, it was that universe’s alternates of herself and Kurt that made her most uncomfortable. It was like looking at a pair of exaggerated caricatures. Nightcreeper was older, larger and more beastlike than her Kurt. Colombina was younger, smaller and a shrinking violet compared to herself. Not to mention the two of them stuck together like glue. Kitty had never liked Beauty and the Beast comparisons for herself and Kurt, but that was the only thing that popped into her head whenever she saw the other pair.

“I think I may have offended Nightcreeper.” Kitty looked up from her tablet at Kurt. He was running his hand through the hair on his head. It was growing out from the crew cut and the curls were starting to show up again.

“How so?”

“Well, I remembered how well the thing with the Age of Apocalypse versions of us went so … got a very long lecture from the Creep about fidelity and consent and how I shouldn’t blatantly cheat when I’m clearly in a relationship with you. I think when I said sex he thought I was trying to proposition Colombina-”

She smiled with amusement. “Which you were.”

“-behind your back. I didn’t even get to the part about the menage a trois before he jumped in. Literally, he landed on my back. I’m lucky I’m as flexible as I am otherwise I’m pretty sure he would have done a lot more damage.”

“Ouch! He’s got to be at least 185 centimeters tall and he’s built. Want me to massage your back?”

“Yes, please.” Kitty heated up the paraffin bath and got out the oils and latex gloves. As Kurt stripped down and she waited for the bath to heat up she mused aloud. “I’ll go and apologize to them tonight. I’ve got first the twilight patrol so if I go right after, I’ll probably catch them just before they go to sleep.”

* * *

Kitty yawned but continued determinedly to the guest wing. One last thing and then she could go to bed. When she got to the room assigned to the girls from Jump City (she wondered what the equivalent city in this world was) she slowed then stopped. There was a thick haze of lust in the air, heavy enough that she could feed on it if she so chose.

The former X-Woman flushed. Were Sparrow and Colombina in a relationship? She didn’t think of Jubilee in that manner, but they were from an alternate universe. She should go and apologize to the Nightcreeper first.

Before she could leave she heard voices from beyond the door. One she recognized as Colombina, the other sounded like Nightcreeper. What was he doing in the room? And that overwhelming feeling of lust and jealousy? Now worried, Kitty put her hand on the doorknob. She could just phase in but she wanted to make as big a scene as possible.

“Oh man, are Ryder and Kitty still going at it?” Martenitsi’s voice interrupted her. Kitty whirled around to look at the other two female members of the Misfits.

“You know how jealous Ryder gets. Kitty’s gonna be lucky if he lets her get any sleep tonight.” Sparrow noticed Shadowcat standing in front of the door. “Oh hey, we were just looking for you. Is there any way the two of us could get a separate room?”

“I could do that,” she answered absently. Then realizing she could get some more information, “The two of them are in a relationship?”

She received two confused looks in return. “Aren’t you and Nightcreeper- sorry, Nightcrawler in a relationship? You weren’t exactly trying to hide it. Speaking of which, you should know he tried to proposition Colombina earlier today.”

“We’re in an open relationship.” The answer came automatically. “But isn’t he a little too old for her? Kurt and I are only two years apart. Colombina looks quite a bit younger than I do and Nightcreeper looks quite a bit older than Kurt.”

Sparrow took it upon herself to argue with her, while Martenitsi stayed a few feet back to watch. “They’re only twelve years apart. And Kitty’s twenty-two, she’s old enough to make her own decisions. And how old could you possibly be, you look seventeen! You can’t possibly be older than our Colombina.”

“I’m twenty-four,” she responded dryly. “So he’s not taking advantage of her?”

“She’s got the same abilities as you do. If she really objected, she could just phase out of his reach.”

“You can take advantage of people in ways that don’t involve physical force. Again, is this relationship really voluntary on both sides? He’s not manipulating her or anything?”

“You seem to have this strange idea that she’s an innocent to be protected. It’s not like he took her virginity and that makes her his property or anything.”

“Sexual experience is no guarantee that you can’t be pressured into a relationship. Believe me, I’m very well versed in the concept of ‘dubious consent’.”

Sparrow sighed. “Look, let me put it this way. How many people have you killed?”

Now, this was a strange turn in the conversation. “A few. Less than a dozen, even if you count the robots.”

“And how many people has your Nightcreeper- Night _crawler_ , I swear I’m going to get that right someday, killed?”

“Just one and it was in self-defense.”

The Asian pointed into the room. “Nightcreeper, body count: zero. Colombina, body count: Unknown but definitely over fifty.”

Well, that put a different spin on things. While Kitty digested this new piece of information (that shy little thing had a body count that could match Wolverine!) a very familiar moan came from behind the closed door. After a few seconds, she could hear the Nightcreeper talking again.

“We’re not done yet,  _liebling_. I’m not going to be satisfied until you know who you belong to down to your very bones.”

“I’m not (pant, pant) … I didn’t-” Colombina cried out, a noise that Kitty knew didn’t mean she was in pain.

“Next time you won’t test me, right? You’ll turn down that offer right away rather than having me speak for you,  _richtig_?”

“Really? Because that doesn’t sound very loving to me.”

The two Misfits blushed. “He’s not always like that,” put in the blonde. “He just gets  _really_  uninhibited in this form. If he was in his civilian identity, he’d be so embarrassed that we’re listening in right now.”

“Civilian identity?”

“Sure! I mean yours doesn’t go around with blue fur and gold eyes all the time, does he?” A pregnant pause. “Oh my god, you mean he always looks like that? It’s not an effect of the chemicals?”

“Technically, the Creep’s in his natural form right now,” piped up Sparrow. “He needs a patch to bring his body back to human baseline. But the point is, Kurt Ryder is the original, not Nightcreeper.”

This was so confusing.

“Oh God, Kurt!”

“So, a new room!” Kitty brought her hands together with a clap. Time to change the subject. “Somewhere far from the noise I take it?”

“Please!”

* * *

“I think I owe the two of you an apology.” Nightcreeper had staked his claim rather flamboyantly this morning by pulling Colombina into his lap and feeding her by hand. Colombina had blushed but gone along willingly.

“You don’t owe anyone an apology, your boyfriend owes you an apology for his rampant infidelity.” Colombina straightened up to look her counterpart in the eye.

“Yeah, I do. We’ve got an open relationship and I’m aware of what he’s doing so he’s not cheating. In any case, he was asking on my behalf, not his own.”

“Yours?”

“Let’s just say it’s one of the differences between your world and mine.” She could see the cloud of confusion coming from both of them. “I know your group is hiding things, so let’s just say it’s one of Excalibur’s secrets in return.

“But anyway, what I want you to know is that we’re both sorry for making you uncomfortable and no one’s going to expect anything from the two of you. If there’s anything I can do to make up for this-”

“Actually I have an idea!” The green man interrupted. “I heard you had something called a Danger Room, worked a bit like those holodecks in Star Trek.”

* * *

“Lord of the Rings crossed with Pirates of the Caribbean. He’s definitely your counterpart, Kurt.”

“But you can’t say you’re not having fun, Katzchen!”


	18. Mirror Image (Crossover)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossover with Ultimate AU which will be up later.

“Well, you’ll need to stay with someone and the guest rooms up here on the station aren’t really designed for long-term use. They’re pretty much rooms people can pass out in and sleep off their injuries. I suppose we could put the two of you in cells.”

“We’d prefer if you didn’t do that. Neither of us take confinement that well and our escape would probably cause more problems for your organization.” Shroud had taken off her mask and pulled down her hood but for all Dark Claw could read on the girl’s face she might have still been covered from head to toe. Her bodyguard, an indigo-furred thing that exhaled clouds of gold smoke with every breath growled. He’d been the one fighting off the JLX until Shroud had ordered him to stop.

“Huh. I’d put you in the guest rooms of my civilian identity but the whole place is getting fumigated from the last attack. Fucking Abominite,” he muttered the last part.

“We’d be fine staying in the guest quarters of the station. It would not be too different from staying in the barracks back home.”

“Are you sure about that? The fumigation’s going to take about a week and I’m pretty sure it’ll take us longer than that to get you two home.”

“It’s inconvenient, but apparently there’s nothing to be done.” Shroud stood, red cloak draping over her like a waterfall of blood. “Thank you, by the way, for your ‘Ask questions first, shoot later’ policy. I should warn you that the courtesy probably wouldn’t have been extended if the situation was reversed.” And didn’t that just pull at the heartstrings. Even more, since it seemed a genuine observation and not an attempted play on his sympathy.

“Well, maybe there’s one guy I’d trust you with.”

* * *

“A change of clothes, some bedding, and quite a bit of cash. Very generous for Dark Claw.” The man Dark Claw had sent Shroud and Nightcrawler to was tall, black-haired, blue-eyed and stunningly athletic even through the suit. He definitely didn’t seem the type to go running through the streets dispensing vigilante justice in spandex. Shroud really wanted to ask how the two of them knew each other but kept her mouth shut. Dark Claw had made them aware that their freedom was contingent on their good behavior and fishing for information probably would get them stuck on the satellite for the rest of their stay here. “Did he say how long we can expect you to be with us?”

“He said he’d have the others look into it. But we’re only staying with you for a week, after that he said he’s going to move us into guest rooms with his civilian identity.”

“I wonder why he didn’t want you staying on the satellite.” The man, Kurt Ryder, walked over to a rather expensive looking car and pulled open the trunk. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to sit in the back. I’m picking up my girlfriend from the airport.” So they tossed their things in the trunk and climbed into the backseats. When they got to the airport, apparently Ryder’s girlfriend had already arrived and was waiting for them. She was a tiny thing (Ryder picked her up and tossed her in the air easily when they met) with golden-brown hair done up in pigtails and big blue eyes and looked about twelve. Well, maybe that was bias on their part.

“Dark Claw sent them over. Apparently, he doesn’t trust them around the satellite and he can’t put them in the mansion because it’s getting fumigated.”

“I heard about Abominite’s attack. And he trusts us to deal with them?”

“Probably less trust, more the fact they won’t have access to any dangerous technology from my apartment.”

Well, that wasn’t very reassuring. After Colombina had cooked them all supper, they made sleeping arrangements. Unfortunately, while a very lavish apartment, it was still only an apartment. Ryder unfolded his couch into a bed but there was still only one guest bed. “I’m not sure how comfortable the two of you are sleeping together. I’ve had multiple guests over before but they’ve all been friends at the least.”

Shroud put on her ‘public relations’ smile and said, “No, this is fine. We’ll stick a pillow in the middle as a barrier.”

When they’re hosts had gone to bed and the two of them had shut the lights off, Shroud started a conversation with Nightcrawler. “Ryder implied that the JLX doesn’t trust us, but then why send us to stay with a civilian?”

Kurt didn’t look at her, scanning the dark room for any possible threats (or listening devices). “Isn’t it obvious? I guess this version of Wolverine has a sense of humor.”

Shroud sat up. “This version of  _Wolverine_?”

Wagner nodded, then remembered that she couldn’t see in the dark. “He does a good job of hiding behind that mask but those sideburns are unmistakable. They are exactly the same as Logan. I suspect though I can’t confirm, that Kurt Ryder is a version of me. I’m not sure about Colombina, maybe she’s some version of Alison?”

“So there’s at least one version of you that got her.” Shroud’s voice was completely neutral, neither encouraging nor mocking nor jealous. It left Wagner on unstable ground.

“I’m over her. You know that.”

Before they could continue the conversation, they heard voices from the bedroom. “Hush, darling, you’ve got guests in the next room. They’ll hear us.”

“Like I care. I don’t get see you often enough to waste any of our time together.” It was quiet when they heard a soft giggle followed by a loud moan. “Darling please … “

“You’ll just have to be quiet then.”

Kurt turned away from the wall and covered his ears with his pillow. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

After Colombina had cooked breakfast, the two dimension-hoppers were left alone. They’d taken the opportunity to catch up on their sleep. When they woke up around lunchtime, they saw a note with money on the table. It was a list of good restaurants in the area and told them that the other two would be back by dinner. Shroud and ‘Crawler took the opportunity to look over every inch of the apartment. “I think Ryder might be a reporter,” announced Kurt, over by his host’s desk. “I’ve got a lot of socio-political information and character portfolios here. I’m sure people would pay a fortune for this stuff but it’s completely useless to us.”

“I suppose if we need to get some cash on the fly, we can take them with us.” Shroud was exploring the kitchen. “He’s got a lot of prepackaged stuff in the cabinets. Except for the stuff we bought last night on the way from the airport. And this stove looks almost unused. I think our esteemed host doesn’t cook.”

“I’m not sure how that’s relevant. Neither of us can cook either.”

A beat of silence. “So, instant ramen, frozen microwave dinner or should we go out to eat?”

“Let’s try to keep a low profile for now”

* * *

“I apologize for keeping you waiting so long. The damage from the battle was quite extensive and we could not even begin to sift through the data until it had been cleaned up.” Mr. X was a bald, green-skinned alien who was the only permanent resident on the JLX station. Shroud had taken one look at him and immediately disliked him. Nightcrawler couldn’t blame her, he looked very much like the late, unlamented Professor X and not even the assassin missed his old mentor. And Nightcrawler had never even been mind-whammied by the telepath.

“The good news is that I’m sure we can eventually get you home. The bad news is that it will take several months, maybe even a year.” The alien looked over at the two dimension-hoppers standing there. “Unfortunately, with the Dr. Ultime Chronos dead, his machine destroyed, and the computer he left his notes on short-circuited-” He leveled a glare at Shroud. She flushed but kept a calm expression on her face. It had been phase through the computer or get shot by a laser and she hadn’t been confident about surviving the laser. “We’ll need some time to duplicate and validate the process he used to pull things between dimensions and reverse it.”

“Anyway, that’s where you come in.” He turned his gaze to the two natives who had accompanied the travelers. “Or rather, just you Colombina. Nightcreeper, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, like I wanted my  _liebchen_  to come here alone to face all those bullies in the hall?”

“We’re not living a high school special, ‘Creepo.” It had been weird to realize that yes, their hosts were, in fact, part of the tights-and-spandex brigade. When the summons had come from the JLX, he and Shroud had grabbed their things, ready to head back to their world at a moment’s notice. Colombina had gone into the bathroom and changed. Her harlequin-patterned blue ballerina outfit wasn’t that bad, especially in comparison to what Kurt Ryder had done. A quick pull of what had looked like a nicotine patch from his arm and the man had sprouted fangs, a tail and green fur. He hadn’t bothered to cover up afterward, apparently, the giggling maniac felt a bright red boa, gloves and pixie boots of the same, and a deep green speedo constituted an appropriate outfit. Wagner had suddenly become a lot less certain of the other man’s identity after seeing his fashion sense.

“The point is,” said Mr. X, getting the conversation back on track. “Colombina, you’ve got the best track record of data recovery among the reservists. I’d like you to focus on extracting data from Dr. Chronos’s servers.” The blue-clad girl nodded and began looking over the notes Mr. X passed her. As her attention drifted away, Mr. X wheeled around to look at Shroud and Nightcrawler.

“I understand that this is an inconvenience to you. I hope there won’t be too much trouble.”

“Nothing to be done about it. I’m sure it won’t be a problem at home.”

“No, it will be a problem,” the indigo man disagreed, speaking up for the first time. “We disappeared while in Washington, DC. When Excalibur investigates and the US government has no answers, it could very well lead to war.”

A chill seemed to descend on everyone (except Nightcreeper who’d grown bored and was now haunting the corners of the room). “Excalibur wouldn’t risk a war for me,” stated Shroud after licking her lips.

“No, they wouldn’t,” agreed the German. “But now EU has several reasons to want to attack the US. You wouldn’t be the cause but your disappearance would make a fine excuse. In fact, we’ve probably already been gone too long.”

Mr. X cleared his throat. “Well, you’re in luck then. One of the few pieces of data we’ve managed to decipher indicates that the machine Dr. Chronos created could adjust the time items were grabbed from or returned to. Once we’ve assembled and understood the machine, we could probably place you back in your dimension within an hour of the time you were abducted.”

“That would solve the problem,” admitted Wagner.

“Indeed. So please relax while you’re here. Perhaps treat it as a vacation.”

“We’ll think about it,” said Shroud.

* * *

“She’s certainly very intelligent if a bit creepy.” Colombina smiled down at Margaret Braddock, who was starting to yawn. “Do you know if it’s a side effect of being part-Kryptonian?”

“I don’t think so.” Gloria Mundi, apparently this universe’s version of Meggan Braddock carefully rocked her daughter into sleep. “Brian said he and Tatsu weren’t like that. It must be a mutation, like Tatsu’s psychic knives.”

Shroud had been pressed into acting as Colombina’s assistant in recovering Dr. Chronos’s notes from the computer. It had been hoped that her own background in computer systems would help but it had quickly become clear that the shorter woman was far more knowledgeable. The brunette had essentially been reduced to being a gofer and doing whatever brute force coding the other needed. It wasn’t a fun job but at least this way she could keep track of the JLX’s progress. That being said, she didn’t begrudge the other woman a break. Colombina was working hard and wasn’t trying to conceal anything she was doing.

The dimension hopper still stayed out of the conversation. It was surprisingly painful to see another version of Meggan, happily married with a baby daughter to take care of. Meggan had confided that before Jamie Maddrox’s attack on Parliament, she and Brian had been looking forward to getting married and starting their own family. Seeing just how wonderful their dream would have been if it had come true and knowing that her Meggan would never have that … it was almost as painful as when she had pretended for one night that Jessica was Peter and all their dreams were still possible. Shroud didn’t think she could participate without lashing out and these two didn’t deserve that.

“How about you and Ryder, Colombina? Have you considered starting a family?”

The smaller woman shook her head. “No. In fact, I still haven’t checked if my reproductive system actually works or not. I mean, I do get periods but that doesn’t mean that everything’s fully functional after all.”

“You haven’t checked? Does that mean the two of you decided against having any children?”

“Not exactly.” Colombina raised her hand and wiggled it in the air. “It would be more accurate to say that we’re leaving it up to God and Chance. We’re not making any extra efforts to have kids but we’re not taking any steps to prevent them. If I do end up pregnant, we’ll cross that bridge when it happens. If it never happens, well, it’s not like we don’t have lives and goals that have nothing to do with kids.” Colombina turned blue eyes to Shroud and tried to involve her in the conversation. “What about you Shroud? Got a boyfriend or girlfriend back home to start a family with?”

The auburn-haired girl finished up the stack of data she was entering before answering. She decided to nip this line of questioning in the bud. “Not currently in a relationship now. And with my second boyfriend, we didn’t get that far. I did dream of having children with my first boyfriend but he was murdered before that happened.”

Catching the hint, the other two women turned back to their conversation. The blonde fluttered her hands a little, searching for words. Finally, she settled on something to say. “I’m glad you’ve stopped obsessing over your injuries, Kitty.”

“Yes, things got a lot less stressful after we decided this was not something worth worrying about.”

Shroud filed that information away but was more interested in another part of the conversation. “Wait, you’re name’s Kitty? I thought you were called Colombina.”

Blue eyes looked confused at her. “Oh right, we never got formally introduced. Colombina is my alter ego alias. My real name’s Kitty Pryde. Why do you look so shocked?”

“No, it’s just-” Shroud shook her head. “My name’s Kitty Pryde too. I would never have guessed I was your counterpart.”

The pigtailed woman looked up at Shroud, taking in the short, auburn hair, hazel eyes and other myriad differences that made them look like two entirely different people. “I wouldn’t have thought that either. We don’t look alike at all!”

* * *

Wagner froze by the kitchen sink. He had gotten up to get a drink of water when he heard the door open. It took a few seconds to recognize his hosts’ voices and realize that Ryder and Colombina had come home from that function Ryder was supposed to attend. In the dark room, they must have missed his presence because they walked right by him.

They turned on the lamp in Ryder’s room and Wagner could see them silhouetted by the light. He should have looked away, should have given them their privacy but chose not to. Their relationship was probably as close as he would ever get to being with Kitty and he stole what moments he could get by watching them.

Colombina’s hands rested lightly on Ryder’s shoulders as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. As the embrace grew more passionate, he pulled her up off her feet easily, then pressed her into the lintel. Colombina’s wrapped her legs around his waist and he easily supported her with one arm. Ryder stepped into his room and shut the door behind him.

When Kurt returned to the sofa, he initially thought Shroud was asleep. Then she stirred, rolling over to look at him. The expression on her face made him freeze. “I don’t think either Ryder or Colombina would appreciate your voyeurism.” Unsaid went the fact that Shroud also found fault with the fact he was spying on their hosts’ relationship. It had been awkward enough when they thought that Colombina was Dazzler’s counterpart. It got ten times worse when they realized she was Shroud’s.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She turned her back on him. “I won’t say anything if they don’t. But don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” But even as he said that he knew he’d probably break his promise.

* * *

“I hadn’t realized you were so famous.” The new dimension ripper was nearing completion, so the four of them had decided to take a night off. They were watching some award ceremony on the West Coast. Apparently, Ryder had won a few journalism awards, although they were being collected by his agent since he hadn’t wanted to go.

“Infamous would be more accurate,” said Colombina. “He’s notorious for asking terrible questions on live TV during his interviews. I don’t know how this guy gets people to keep showing up for his programs.” She punched her boyfriend lightly on the shoulder.

Ryder smirked. “It’s precisely because I’m so tough on them. They know if they can get through my interview, their’ reputation or that of their company will soar. CEOs, lawyers, politicians, they all come on my show thinking they’ve prepared themselves for anything. It’s my job to surprise them, to attack from unexpected angles and drag the truth into the public eye.”

“And how many people actually manage to make it through one of your interviews?” asked Shroud skeptically.

“More than you think! Also, not all my interviews are live so the editors sometimes get to them.”

“Maybe you should try what he does,” Nightcrawler said to his version of Kitty.

“I only wish I could get away with that,” she replied wistfully.

“You’re also a reporter?”

“No, a celebrity.” Seeing as she wasn’t going to elaborate, Nightcrawler butted in. “She’s pretty much  _the_  spokesperson for mutants in the US back home. She even got the Presidential Medal of Freedom for helping save the world.” He turned to look at Shroud. “Alison would have killed to be half as famous as you are.”

“She can have it. My every move was scrutinized, every statement put under a fine-toothed comb for meanings and innuendo. And God forbid a mutant commit a crime or violent act, people immediately would blame me. And that doesn’t count all the stalkers and death threats.”

“Sounds like you got the worst of it. But surely you’ve been taking advantage of what you got to try to improve things.”

“I have to do that whether I want to or not.” They paused to watch another speaker present an award. "I don’t know how you get away with being so honest Ryder. Some days it seems like I spend hours biting my tongue, reminding myself of how many people it would be in danger if I just told one leering politician to fuck off and keep his eyes in his head.”

“I suppose I come from a different angle. I ask myself how many people would be hurt if I didn’t make what I know public.”

“At least your making money off it?” piped in Colombina.

“I wish I was. But saving the world doesn’t come with a paycheck in our world. I actually had to move and join a European military specialist group so that I wouldn’t be broke all the time.”

“That sucks. Even newbie teams like the Misfits get a stipend here. You can’t concentrate on saving the world if you’re worried about making rent.”

“The JLX set it up. Not everyone gets one, for example, both Dark Claw and I make enough money with our regular jobs to cover our expenses. We’re also lucky enough that our schedules are flexible so that we can do the vigilante thing.”

“Most of the Misfits, on the other hand, are still in some form of schooling. Some people might be able to handle superheroing, taking classes and a part-time job … but if it wasn’t for the stipend, I’m pretty sure Martenitsi, Ferro Man and Aconite would have left the team.”

Shroud and Nightcrawler stared at their counterparts in surprise. The brunette got a thoughtful look on her face. “Actually, that’s a bit like what Excalibur is doing, albeit on a much smaller scale. And of course, we have to answer to the EU, which the JLX doesn’t seem to do?”

Ryder nodded. “The JLX is specifically an NGO. We end up paying dues to the UN, but our funding is private specifically to prevent us from being too influenced by any one country.”

“Maybe a bit like the X-Men. Maybe Cyclops could spin his next funding drive that way. The school is one thing, but if he could actually pay people for risking their lives … he might not have to depend so heavily on a few volunteers.”

“Or he’d be turning the X-Men into the mercenary group the President accused them of being.”

“There are rarely any easy answers to those types of questions,” agreed Ryder. “That’s another thing you should take the time to think over while you’re here.”

* * *

“You’re an assassin?”

“I was an assassin. Now I do a lot of computer and Internet security for a living, and assist as part of the Misfits superhero team on a regular basis.”

Wagner looked Colombina up and down. “You don’t  _look_  like an assassin.” Colombina was tiny, at least a handspan shorter than Shroud, with big blue eyes that made her look at least five years younger than her actual age. Which in hindsight probably made her very effective.

“What do you expect an assassin to look like then?”

“Well, like me. I was part of Department K for about six years as Weapon XVII.”

“Department K exists in your world too? I was Weapon XXIV.”

A pregnant pause filled the air as he stared at her. “How long were you part of Department K?”

“Three years. The Hyena rescued me.” The name meant nothing to him and she didn’t elaborate. “Do people shun you for what you did?”

“People do shun me, but not for my background.” He grimaced, teeth highlighted by gold smoke against his indigo fur. “I, er, made several mistakes and hurt several people among the X-Men. I’m trying to make up for them now but some of them are … unforgiving.”

Blue eyes drilled into his face. Times like this, it was easy to see that Shroud and Colombina were actually the same person. “Not that their reaction isn’t called for. But I had to leave the X-Men for Excalibur due to the fallout.”

“Hmmm.” She turned back to the computer, where a CAD was displayed on the screen. “But how did they treat you before that?”

“They were very kind. I guess I was one of the more sociable members. I had a lot of friends.”

“Good for you. I wouldn’t say I have a lot of friends among the JLX but the ones I do have are great.” More typing. “How … did you deal with being in Department K?”

“I may have had a disadvantage, compared to you. When they kidnapped me, I only spoke German. So they had an easier time isolating me. If it wasn’t for the X-Men, I’d probably have never gotten away. There wouldn’t have been any place to run to.”

“I bet they didn’t try to rape a new specimen into you.” Well, no they hadn’t. Maybe if he’d been part of the project longer they would have considered continuing it but it had not gotten that far when Department K was dismantled. “But what I meant was, how did you deal with all the killing?”

“I … didn’t care? How many people did you kill?”

“I’m not sure. Sometimes there would be long periods of time between fatal missions, sometimes they’d send me to a compound and I wasn’t able to keep track because I was too busy trying to stay alive. Somewhere between fifty and a hundred.”

“Oh. I’m not sure myself. But more than you. A lot more.” He cleared his throat. “Most of the time, I didn’t even know their names. My handler would give me a photo and a blueprint and off I’d go. After the trial, I went and looked up the few I remembered. Some of them deserved to die, so I don’t feel guilty about those. Most I don’t remember well enough or I couldn’t find. Some of them definitely didn’t, and those I do feel guilty about.”

“I remember all my targets. It’s the ones on the side, the ones I’d kill on the way who I don’t have clear memories about. Those are the ones I feel most guilty for.”

“Given the types of missions I was assigned, that’s an awful lot of guilt.” Wagner sat back and thought. “Would you do it again?”

“What?”

“If the JLX asked you to kill someone, would you do it?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in her answer. “If it came down to self-defense, I’d kill someone. If there was a person who was a lethal threat and that person could not be neutralized in any other way, then yes, I’d kill that person. Fortunately, neither of those scenarios have occurred since I joined the JLX, although there have been a few close calls.”

“And you can’t tell yourself that you had no choice?”

“There was always a choice. I could have allowed them to kill me instead.”

“That wouldn’t have stopped Department K. If it wasn’t you, they would have just gotten someone else.”

“I suppose. And it was my testimony that caused the department to be decommissioned.”

“That’s certainly a good way of finding meaning in your suffering.”

“Is that what you do?”

“No. I honestly don’t regret what happened to me very much. It was unfortunate and I certainly would rather have been an acrobat rather than an assassin. But I don’t have the feelings of guilt and responsibility crushing me down the way you seem to.”

“So how do you feel?”

He paused to think about it a little. “Proud, maybe. I didn’t know my targets or the people who got in my way. I didn’t care about them. But being able to subvert the security systems of major compounds, to defeat the multitudes that got in my way, that’s quite an accomplishment. If Excalibur asked me to do it again, I would without any guilt or hesitation.”

He looked over at her. Colombina was staring at him, wide-eyed and her face had gotten even paler. “Nightcrawler, that’s  _monstrous_.”

“Not really. There are people who’ll do much worse for even less reason in my world.”

“Here too. But they don’t delude themselves thinking that they’re heroes for it.”

“It’s a matter of perspective.”

“It really isn’t.”

Wagner took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m afraid we’re just going to have to agree to disagree then. What’s your progress on the dimension ripper?”

Colombina started then turned to her diagram. “I needed to get some parts custom-made, so assembly will have to wait until those arrive.” She seemed to recover, but Nightcrawler noticed that she never left her back open to him again.

* * *

“ _Auf Wiedersehen, kinder!”_

Nightcreeper blew a kiss to the two people standing on the platform. Colombina, also in costume, waved to Shroud and glared at Nightcrawler. Shroud, already masked and hooded, waved back. The indigo man just frowned at both of them.

When the light from the teleportation died down, the two remaining Misfits turned away. Colombina opened up a panel and started to disassemble the machine, taking care to remove key components before sealing it back up. The green lunatic just talked at her, mouth going a mile a minute. “Such a cute couple! Reminds me of us a few years back. Except for more hang-ups and less humor! So dour, both of them! Do you think we could visit them in their home?”

“Maybe if there’s a reason too.” Colombina straightened up and removed her mask. “She could do better.”

“So mean,  _liebling!_ What about me?”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “You could do better too.”

He just laughed again and swept her up in a kiss.


	19. Snippets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly focused on Kurt Ryder. No timeline for these, they jump around all over the place.

Logan heard a thump coming from the main staircase and shot right out of bed.  The security system should have taken care of most intruders but as the Hyena and Abominite had proved, it wouldn’t keep out the more determined supervillains of New Gotham.  He pulled his gun out from under his pillow and after a second’s hesitation, also found a taser from the closet.  He had his claws if he needed to drop his weapons and it might be worth taking whoever it was in.  On the other hand, if it was the Hyena, Logan would need all the firepower he could get.

He crept around until he got to the staircase.  The manor was isolated enough that no streetlights could be seen, but there were security lights all over the building.  They tended to be pointed away from the windows but enough light leaked through to allow him to at least see the shapes of everything.  And there on the steps, climbing slowly was a tall, muscular figure.  Logan stayed still long enough to notice something odd about the way the figure was moving before he moved to tackle the shadow, taser sparking in his hand.

He slammed into the man and realized what was so odd.  The person had been ascending the stairs  _backward_.  Also strange, whoever it was hadn’t even flinched when the 200 kg superhero had slammed into him.  Now worried, Logan pressed the taser to the intruder’s skin and pulled the trigger.  “Hahaha, that tickles!”

Well, that voice was familiar.  Logan stepped back and turned on the light.  “Nightcreeper,” he said dryly.

The lunatic didn’t turn around but he could hear the pout in the other man’s voice.  “Aw, Logan!  You turned on the lights!  Now I have to start all over again!”  Damn the man had no indoor voice.

“Kurt, what are you doing here?”

“I just turned in this article to the paper about the ‘Bloody Mary’ legend going around homeless kids and I decided to see if there was any truth to them.”

Logan was pretty sure he was still half-asleep because that sentence wasn’t parsing.  “Doesn’t that legend involve laying the mirror on the floor, covered with sea water and chanting her name?  Why are you in my house?”

“It does!”  The green man pouted.  “But when I tried it nothing happened!”

 _No surprise there.  No one sane would willingly answer a summons sent by the Nightcreeper, not an angel or demon.  Hell, why do I listen to the guy?_   

“So I’ve been trying different variations of the legend all night to see if I could get something to happen.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you are  **here.”**

“The oldest version I’ve found involves walking up the stairs backward in a darkened room while holding a mirror and a candle for light.  But the staircases in my apartment building are always lighted.  So I thought of your home first.”  The invulnerable man clasped his hands together and made puppy eyes at Logan.  “May I pretty please with a cherry on top continue my experiment?”

The hero rubbed a hand over his eyes.  “Fine.  Have fun.”  Then he reached over and shut off the light.

“I will!”

* * *

“American beer is so tasteless.  Isn’t there anything else I could drink?”

“I told you, Ryder.  Just skip the beer and drink the whiskey instead.  Their lagers suck but their bourbon’s not bad.”  

“I don’t want whiskey.  One of us is going to have to pay bail after you tear up the bar and I’ll be too drunk to do that if I’m drinking whiskey all night.”

Logan shrugged.  “Suit yourself.  I intend to enjoy my evening.”  He skulled his drink, then waved to attract the bartender’s attention.  “Two more and a Shirley Temple for my friend here.”

Kurt glared at him.  “A Shirley Temple?  Really?”

“Man, if you don’t want to be DD for the night, you’re gonna have to up your game from American beer.”

“We walked here.  Neither of us needs to be concerned about staying sober.”

* * *

“Hey, aren’t you that reporter from TV?”

Kurt looked up.  The woman who had approached him was blonde, blue-eyed and very busty.  He straightened up and smiled at her.  “As a matter of fact, I am.  From  _You’re WRONG!_   Unless you were thinking of some other handsome, blue-eyed reporter from New Gotham?”

She beamed at him.  “I knew I’d seen you before!  Bartender, could you take a picture of us together?  My friends’ll be so jealous!”  A bored Cardinal leaned over the bar to take the camera and framed the two of them in front of the giant fountain.  After passing it back, the blonde resumed the conversation.  “So what’s a celebrity like you doing here?”

“This is the hottest nightclub in New Gotham.  And I just finished an interview and was jotting down my note while it was still fresh in my mind.”

“Really, so you’re done with work now?”  She leaned over to give him a look straight down her cleavage, toying with one yellow curl to ensure his attention was in the right spot.  Kurt appreciated the view.

“A few more minutes.  Just long enough for someone to powder their nose.”

“Well, I think I need a quick trip to the powder room.  But don’t go away.  I feel we’ve got a lot to ‘talk’ about.”

“Oh, I won’t.”  He blatantly watched her as he sashayed out of the room.  Once she was gone (and his notes were recorded and stowed, he was a professional after all), he took out a small canister of breath spray and gave himself a double spritz.

“This is a respectable establishment, not a hookup bar.  Do you even know her name?”  He turned to see Cobblepot giving him an exasperated look.  It wasn’t too different from the look the Penguin gave Nightcreeper whenever they met.

“I never implied it was a hookup bar.  But if I want a little company after work, it’s no one’s business but my own.”  The blonde was making her way back to them, so Kurt stood up and met her halfway.  As they left the club, Kurt tossed a brief wave over to the bar.

“He definitely doesn’t know her name.” Stated Cardinal.

“The playing around would be almost amusing if he wasn’t so obnoxious about it.”

* * *

“Oh my God, what did you do?  It looks like a massacre in here.”  Colombina’s wide blue eyes took in the red gore splattering the small kitchen.

“It’s just tomato sauce!” protested Kurt.

“You’ve got a red stain all over the back of your shirt.  How…. does that even happen?  Did you turn away from the stove just as it exploded?”

“I was so careful this time,” he moaned.  “It makes no sense!”

* * *

“And finally, for the State of Bavaria, the winner of this year’s Senior Fencing Cup is Kurt Ryder.”  The teenager waved at the screaming audience and came up to the stage to accept his trophy.  Before going back down, the principal grasped his arm.  “Before I conclude this ceremony, I have one more announcement to make.  As the Olympics are later this year, tryouts are now starting for the team.  According to the judges, the three top fencers from each state senior circuit, assuming they are old enough, may participate.  Qualifying trials will be next month at -”

Kurt sat down with a thud as the official started fielding questions from the crowd.  He’d have to tell Mama and Marie about this immediately.  The trials were unfortunately in the middle of the circus season but the chance to be an Olympic athlete didn’t come around very often.  This might be his only opportunity to do something like this.

He went home to a surprise party.  “Congratulations!  I told you you’d win,” Irene smiled.  She and Marie had worked all day to prepare the party for Kurt.

“Yes, Mamma.  I should know you’re always right in your predictions.”  He kissed her on the cheek.

“And I’ve already arranged for you to stay with the Wagners this summer.  You’ll have to help out with their farm when you’re not practicing but they’ll take you to Munich for the trials.  And you can move straight in after the Olympics.”

“Jimaine’s gonna be disappointed,” teased Marie.  “She was looking forward to doing your ‘Lover’s Act’ again this year.”

“She’s just going to have to live with it.”  Last year had been fun, but Jimaine apparently was reading more into the act than Kurt felt.  He might have considered pursuing a real relationship with her but while Jimaine was content to be a circus acrobat (no small feat in itself), Kurt wanted more than that.  She didn’t understand why he was so interested in attending a  _Universitaten_  or was considering leaving Germany at all.  He’d even found her trying to tear up his  _Abitur_  results.  Fortunately, he had stopped her before she did any real damage but the act just solidified his decision that they really wouldn’t be a good couple.

“Maybe you’ll find a cute girlfriend to cook for you in the Olympics.  Or maybe after the trials, at the University of Television and Film.”

“He’d better hope so,” Irene muttered.  “He’s not going to ever get better at cooking.”

“I’ve been trying,” he protested.  “Cooking’s a difficult skill to learn!”

“True,” his sister backed him up.  “Miracles have been known to happen.”

He frowned at both of them.  “With family like you, who needs enemies?”

* * *

“Can we turn on the radio? It’s creepy here.”

“I don’t see why not,” Kurt responded absently. “There’s only you, me and Vera here this weekend after all. It won’t bother me.”

Vera had slightly higher standards. “No heavy metal or punk rock! I can’t think through the noise.”

“No metal,” agreed Remington Cord. A few adjustments to the volume knob and some searching for a channel that wasn’t playing the local game, and the reporter finally settled on a station.

 _Well I could have been an actor but I wound up here_  
I just have to look good, I don’t have to be clear  
Come and whisper in my ear  
Give us dirty laundry

“Oh, I love this song!” Kurt perked up on hearing the music.

“Of course you do,” cooed Vera Sweet. “You pretty much live this song.”

“I never wanted to be an actor! That’s base slander!”

“Oh not again … “

_We’ve got the bubble-headed bleach blonde who comes on at five  
She can tell ya ‘bout the plane crash with a gleam in her eye_

“That’s you, Vera. That’s entirely you.”

“I’m not that bad! Remi, back me up on this!” The junior reporter held up his hands as his senior co-workers argued, trying to avoid being drawn into the fight. “Guys, can’t we all just get along? We’ve got deadlines for tomorrow.”

The two of them ignored him. “You’re just upset you lost that bet about the heir dying to the boys in the newsroom,” shot Vera.

“And you’re angry the critics said your new show was ‘Full of dancing and singing but when it’s said and done she hasn’t told you a thing.’“

 _Dirty little secrets  
_ _Dirty little lies_  
We’ve got our dirty little fingers in everybody's’ pies  
We love to cut you down to size

 _“_ I should have just put up with the creepy silence.” moaned Remington Cord.

* * *

“Your Twitter’s going to give someone a complex,” noted Kitty.

“Really?” Kurt looked over his most recent Tweets. “They’re not that sarcastic. Remington is worse with his.”

“Not the snark. I meant the clown comparisons.”

“They’re not specifically about clowns, they’re just things that remind me of the circus.”

His girlfriend put down her tablet. “You didn’t happen to be a clown when you worked in that circus during your childhood?”

“Would it matter?”

“I’ve got coulrophobia. If you were a clown, well, I may just have to break up with you.”

“Ouch!” Kurt leaned over and easily swept her into his lap. “Well, it was a small circus, so everyone did a little of everything. But no, I was an acrobat and an escapologist. So no need for you to worry.”

She cuddled closer to him. “That’s good. I have enough nightmares, I don’t need any more added.”

* * *

“I am so sorry about this!”

“Gotta dance!”

“Jubilee, when you told me you were going to hire a stripper for my birthday, this is not what I expected.”

“I don’t know how he even got here!”

In the center of the Misfits’ living room, the Nightcreeper casually tossed his boa over to Koriand’ru. Her dark skin prevented the others from seeing her blush but the wide smile on her face showed just how much she appreciated the show. Rahne, on the other hand, shrieked and covered her eyes. Not that she had much reason to, between the collar, cuffs, and the pants Nightcreeper was actually wearing more than he usually did. And he looked good. The black actually went well with the green fur and the skin-tight black did a good job emphasizing all the muscles that were usually covered with a fine layer of green fuzz. He slipped off the cuffs and collar and did a few pelvic thrusts in time to the music.

“If you’re blue and you don’t-” Kitty reached up and covered his mouth with her hand. It was too bad Nightcreeper’s voice wasn’t as good as his looks but no one was perfect. “Eugh!” she drew back after he licked her palm.

The insanity was definitely another flaw.

He drew another breath to continue the song and the newly of-age Misfit took the opportunity to head him off at the pass. “Hey, ‘creeper, perhaps you could give me a private dance instead? Then I could touch you for real.”

“As you wish!” With that, the tall man lifted her easily and swept out of the den towards Kitty’s private room. The other three Misfits just continued to stare in shock for a few seconds. Rahne finally broke the silence. “Does she … should one of us rescue Kitty?”

Jubilee dismissed her worry. “Kitty can handle him easily. More important question: what happened to the guy I actually hired?”

* * *

As Ryder slammed the ink cartridges back into the printer then picked it up to place back on the table, the other reporters and journalists applauded. “Thank you, thank you!” He gave a deep theatrical bow to his audience. “But seriously, why do we have an industrial printer that only can be unjammed and the cartridges replaced from the back? Or at least a smaller printer so that the back could be more accessible?”

“Because our boss is stingy as hell and doesn’t want to spring for a newer model,” said Vera dryly.

“Still, I’m impressed,” noted Remington Cord. “I can’t move that printer when something goes wrong. It must weigh over a hundred pounds.”

“Just under it, I think.” Several people lined up to start making copies and scan stuff in. The German immigrant moved off to the side and gratefully drank the paper cup of water his junior handed to him. “I’m so tempted to toss that thing out the window whenever this happens.”

“Please don’t! Until IT returns our other one this is the only one we have. The department will grind to a halt if we don’t have a working printer.”

“Point for your side.”

“Still, what I said earlier stands. How on earth did you get that strong? You make heavy office equipment look like it’s filled with feathers and not electronics and machinery.”

“It’s not that easy. But do you want to know a secret?” The younger man nodded eagerly. “You know how I nearly got to the Olympics on the fencing team? Well, in addition to fencing, I was also a pretty good acrobat in  _akademie_  and college. Not as good as fencing but much better than the average person.”

“I don’t get it. So that makes you very flexible but-”

“Remi, if I can hold up my entire body weight while balancing on one hand on a chair, hauling that printer around is easy. I weigh a lot more than that printer, after all.”

“Oooh, that does make sense.”

* * *

“You’ll never guess what showed up today while I was testing the new plagiarism algorithm for the update.”

“Oh?” Kurt pressed down hard on the ball of her thumb and Kitty sighed and melted onto the bed. Sometimes she wished thought about giving up being a Misfit and moving back to New Gotham. But after being imprisoned by Department K then bossed around by the Hyena, she wasn’t ready to give up her independence yet. She knew Kurt also had his concerns about leaving Gotham and moving to Jump City.  _In a few years. Maybe after Martenitsi makes her majority, I’ll consider moving here._  “Yeah, picked up a kid pretty much taking one of your articles wholesale. The one about the relationship between alcohol and special effects in movies.”

“I don’t remember- wait. Was that the one I wrote while I was drunk? It was completely incoherent and I called Michael Bay a ridiculous wannabe who should stick to explosions and not bother to try directing movies because he couldn’t plot his way out of a paper bag?”

“The one your boss actually made you issue a public apology for even though it never got printed.”

“How’d he even-”

“You’ve got it up on your blog, remember? Idiot lifted it wholesale, grammar mistakes and all. I had to double check during the demo, it seemed so unlikely.”

Ryder facepalmed, then buried his face in her stomach. “That article was so wonky, I think I’m more embarrassed for that student than offended.”

“Oh, don’t worry. The guy’s professor was there for the demo. He was outraged enough for a dozen people, never mind just you and him. That kid’s about to have a terrible Monday and he probably deserves every bit of it.”

* * *

“You can’t wear that!” Kurt Ryder looked down at his suit. “Vera, what’s wrong with what I’m wearing? I wore this same outfit to the Interview with Cardinal Law and it was fine then. And I was exposing the continued cover-up of sex scandals in the Catholic Church, so it can’t be because people find this outfit  _offensive_.”

The blonde shook her head. “It’s not that, it’s the  _color_. The boss is having us try the Chroma Key background today and the stuff they’re using is colored  _green_.”

And Kurt’s suit and button-up shirt were both green and fairly close shades. “Today? I thought they weren’t coming until next week.”

“Yeah, well, apparently the indie movie stuff they were supposed to do this week backed out. So they called and offered a discount if we moved our engagement to this week, so here they are. The new weather girl was lucky she was planning to go out tonight, she had to do her segment in a cocktail dress because she came in wearing green too.”

“I didn’t bring any other clothes tonight and I don’t have time to go back home.”

“I’ll ask around then. Maybe someone can lend you a shirt.” Vera gave him a brief up and down look. “You’re sitting on the couch, so your pants should be fine. Not sure if anyone’ll have a jacket in your size though.”

Vera and Remi came through but just barely. “Absolutely do not move. I don’t think the seams of my shirt will take the pressure.”

“You’re a lot more muscular than I thought,” Vera was staring. “Do you get your shirts tailored or something?”

“Tailored or I just buy a bigger size. The jackets usually cover up any problems.” Kurt attempted to raise his arms but stopped as soon as he felt a thread pop. “It’s a good thing tonight’s supposed to just be a softball interview.”

“If you rip the seams,” warned Remington, who was down to his undershirt. “I’m making you pay for the repairs.”

“I rip the seams, I’ll buy you a new one,” Kurt promised.

The interview went fine for the first half-hour. But just as they were reaching the home stretch, the new Secretary of Education just happened to state one fact that was false. Ryder pounced on that opening and hammered at the weaknesses of her defensive arguments. Finally having gotten her cornered, he abruptly stood up, slammed his hands down on the table and shouted his show’s catchphrase, “YOU’RE WRONG!”

The seams pretty much disintegrated and the sleeves fell off the shirt. There was a moment of shocked silence, then the director yelled for them to switch to the technical difficulties screen.

It was pretty much the end of the show so, Kurt and company were shooed off the stage (not without a nasty glare in Kurt’s direction, while he gave the Secretary a smug smirk in return). The talk show host walked over to Vera and Remington. The blonde wasn’t even trying to cover her laughter, the brunet did a somewhat better job but the edges of his lips kept twitching upwards. Kurt looked at the two of them then hung his head and sighed. “The two of you are never going to let me forget this, are you?”

“That was live TV. With the Internet, no one’s ever going to forget it!” Sweet just laughed harder.

* * *

The doorbell rang and Kurt pulled away from Kitty with a groan. “Something wrong?” she asked.

“Just my next door neighbor. She always seems to know when I’ve had a bad day and she brings over pie. But every time, she catches me in the shower.”

“Hmm. Do you want to just ignore her?”

“Nah, she’s really nice. Just has a terrible sense of timing.” The two of them got out and Kurt grabbed a towel then ran to the door while Kitty searched the bedroom for her robe.

The older woman really was just as nice as Kurt had said, and Kitty loved the cherry pie she brought over. It was also the first time Kurt had introduced her as his girlfriend to anyone and the woman was really supportive and wanted to know all about Kitty. They could only give her the edited version of her past but even then she was compassionate and didn’t push the blonde’s boundaries.

When she left, it was with a promise that Kitty would knock on her door the next time she visited. Although, apparently there was one thing Kurt hadn’t noticed. “She totally came over to ogle you, you know that?”

He looked down at her. “How on earth-”

“She kept staring at your chest the whole time she was here.”

“Huh, I wonder how she knew I was in the shower though?”

“Probably the plumbing. I can hear Piotr singing whenever I’m in my bathroom at the same time.”

“Well, I guess I can’t blame her. I  _am_  very handsome and muscular after all.”

“Show-off,” teased Kitty. “She was probably wondering what a stud like you was doing with a plain Jane like me.”

That made the smile drop off of his face. “You’re not, you know.”

“Not what?”

“Plain. You’ve got golden highlights in your hair, huge blue eyes and very soft, rounded features.”

“And a flat chest.”

“I’m not going to lie and say you could have been a model. For one thing, you’re way too short for that. But you’ve got this strange misconception that you look average or barely above that.”

“I guess …” She ducked her head down to stare at the table.

“You don’t seem to believe me.”

“I’m not blind, Kurt. I’ve met Kokoro and some of the other women you’ve dated over the years. I look nothing like those women, with their movie-star good looks and hourglass figures.”

“Hmm, that’s true. But you know something else all those women have in common? Not a single one of them would have stayed if they knew about Nightcreeper.” He paused for a second. “Except for Kokoro, who left because of Ryder and Kantique. But my point is, I was choosing most of my partners because of their looks. Maybe I finally grew up enough to realize those weren’t everything.”

“So what’s your point? That I should be happy that your settling for someone like me?”

“ _No_. My point is that I’m not going to run away and abandon you just because another pretty face joins the JLX or shoves her cleavage in my face on TV. I love you, Kitty. I’m not saying that it’s forever because we can’t predict these things. But you don’t have to compare yourself to the people I chased before because that’s not the reason I’m with you now.”

Kitty finally looked up again. “I’m going to try to believe you.”

“That’s all I ask.”

* * *

“I don’t like the new guy’s outfit. He’s fighting crime in a football jersey!”

Every member of the JLX turned to stare at Nightcreeper. Finally, Dark Claw took it upon himself to break the silence. “You are absolutely the last person to be criticizing anyone else’s outfit!”

* * *

“I am never contacting Nightcreeper again,” said Mr. X, wincing and rubbing his forehead.

“What’s wrong?” asked Apollo.

“Trying to enter his mind when he’s in that form is like … “ the alien had to think for a second to come up with a metaphor the Earthling would understand. “Riding a rollercoaster while intoxicated and fireworks go off right next to you.”

“That sounds terrible,” the energy projector grimaced.

“If I’d stayed any longer, I probably would have thrown up and I’m not sure I actually have that reflex.” The green man reached for some cookies to ease the headache. “It’s fine when I have to contact him in his civilian form but this may prove an issue.”

There was a long pause in the conversation. “The Nightcreeper has a civilian form?” Apollo grimaced as if he couldn’t imagine it.

“Yes, although I can’t tell you who he is. That’s need-to-know-only information after all.”

“Yeah, I understand.” The younger man sat back and thought for a while. “Maybe we could pair him up with someone? That way you could just contact that person and he or she could relay the information to Nightcreeper.”

The alien nodded. “An excellent idea, but who? The only people willing to work with him are the New Gothamites, and we usually call on him because Dark Claw and Sparrow aren’t available in the first place.”

“Isn’t he with the Newblood team? Shouldn’t they already be partnered up?”

“He is but they don’t like working with him either.” The two put more thought into the issue.

“What about Colombina?” The younger man finally came up with a suggestion. “You’ve been in her mind before and it was fine, right?”

“I wouldn’t say she’s fine but her mind is tolerable, yes.”

“Not a lot of people are willing to pair up with her either. But there’s no way we’re letting her go out on her own. And she lives in New Gotham too.”

“That does seem to be a good choice. I’ll bring it up with Dark Claw the next time I see him.”

* * *

Linda sighed and unlocked the door to her apartment. What was that quote? “The best-laid plans of mice and men, often go awry.” Yes, that was it. And life had just done that to her. It’s not like she had meant to get hit by that bus. She was lucky it had just cracked some ribs. Her doctor said she wasn’t going to be able to be back at work this week but fortunately she had some vacation time accrued.

She stopped and stared. There on the kitchen island was a vase of freshly cut star lilies, her favorites. She looked around more carefully. Her plants were watered. Her goldfish was fed. There was a cat she’d never seen before lounging in her bed. She even checked her fridge and the milk and eggs that had been about to expire had been thrown out and replaced!

Severely creeped out, she turned back to the vase of flowers. Underneath the vase was a note. Inside there was the strangest letter she’d ever received.

_Hello Linda!_

_I used to hear from you every Friday while patrolling the city but you weren’t here this weekend. So I took the liberty of watering your plants, throwing out your trash and feeding your goldfish and cat. I’ll check again on Tuesday to see if you’ve come back. Hope you recover well from your accident._

_Nightcreeper_

Nightcreeper? What on earth? The guy was real?

A chill ran down her spine. She’d been yelling at the walls every Friday as a form of stress relief. As a joke, she’d been addressing her rants to Nightcreeper. The guy was supposed to be able to hear everything in the city, right? Except he wasn’t supposed to exist, he was just one of those neo cryptids that came from urban legends, like Bloody Mary.

But someone had broken into her apartment. Someone who knew about her plants and her goldfish and her accident and her favorite flowers. Someone who passed by close enough every Friday to hear her rants.

Linda stared at the flowers. Should she throw them out? Would it even be safe to do that? Or would Nightcreeper get offended? Should she call the police? She decided to err on the side of caution. “Thank you, Nightcreeper,” she called out. She wasn’t sure if he counted as a stalker or if he had been trying to be helpful. Linda would also call the police as soon as she’d taken a shower.

A loud meow interrupted her train of thought. Okay, she’d call the police after she figured out what to do about the cat. Where did that thing even come from anyway?

* * *

“Hey sis, whatcha doin’?”

The White Witch gave a brief nod to her twin but her attention remained focused on the other side of the space station cafeteria. “Do you think … someone should maybe … perhaps-”

“Warn Colombina or Nightcreeper about the other?” Her twin overrode her stuttering. He passed her her tea and took a sip out of the energy drink he’d procured for himself. “Sure, but which one?”

“What do you mean?” The two people in question were speaking in a corner, with Colombina seated at a two-person table while the green-furred man perched on the back o the other chair. They were too far away for Wanda to hear their conversation but it must have been fairly light-hearted because the normally somber blonde was smiling at the brunet’s comments. Nightcreeper leaned even closer to whisper in her ear, which caused to start laughing outright.

“Well …” Mercury juggled his empty can and the saucer from her tea. “On one side we’ve got Nightcreeper. We may not know much about him but he  _is_  a good guy and Colombina’s an ex-assassin who used to work for the Hyena. I’m not sure what good seducing or corrupting him might do but if she’s putting on a show with the intent of harming us all later,” he shrugged. “Guy doesn’t deserve to have his heart broken again after Kokoro, does he? But it’s not like that any of that stuff is a secret and the ‘Creeper’s a big boy. He can handle it.”

“That thought did cross my mind.”

“On the other hand, Colombina’s a badly traumatized,” green eyes darted over. “Badly traumatized teenager and while we don’t know much about Nightcreeper, he’s got to be a lot older than her. It’s, dare I say it?”

“Puns aren’t nearly as funny as you think they are, twin.” Wanda’s exasperation did nothing to wilt Pietro’s enthusiasm.

“It’s creepy!” The speedster laughed at his own joke for a minute. “If anyone would need a warning about him, it’s her. But frankly, Colombina’s always struck me as too cynical to fall for any of his lines. Besides, the seniors have been pairing them up together on missions for the past year. She probably knows more about Nightcreeper than anyone other than Dark Claw and that’s only because Dark Claw’s a paranoid loony. So she doesn’t need to be cautioned or threatened or whatever either.”

“I guess you’re right.” Wanda lifted her chin from her hands and drank her now perfect temperature tea. “But still, they make for a rather disturbing couple.”

* * *

“My eyes are up here, Vera,” Kurt said dryly.

“Sorry about your shirt, kraut,” said Vera, not sounding sorry at all. “Oh, and it was coffee all over your white formal too. Should I go tell Remi that he’s going to have to lend you another shirt for tonight’s show?”

He shook his head as he loosened the cuffs and unbuttoned the front. “It’s fine. I’ve got a spare in my office, I’ll just change into that. But if this happens again, I’m going to make you pay for the replacement, Sweet.”

“Hey, my show’s doing really well now. I could afford it easily now.” The blonde tossed one last zinger over her shoulder. “Better watch your back, Ryder. I’m going to pass your viewer numbers any day now.”

“In your dreams.” Kurt watched her leave, then turned to his companion. “So let me guess, you’re going to say Sweet was eyeing me too?”

Kitty just smiled. “No need, you already know she was.”

“The coffee was kind of obvious. There was nothing there for her to trip on and the liquid wasn’t even steaming. This stuff’s bad enough when warm, it’s undrinkable even for us when cold.” He finished taking his shirt off and walked through the halls, cutting a swath for the younger woman to easily follow in his wake.

By the time they got to his office, she was giggling softly. “You are such a show-off.”

“Cold coffee not only tastes disgusting but it feels disgusting too. Besides I can’t help where people direct their eyes.” The slight tilt of her smile showed that she didn’t believe one word he said. Fair enough, he did like showing off when given the opportunity. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“It’s fine.”

“You won’t get jealous?”

“I trust you. Besides,” she reached over. With him standing and her sitting, she was too short to reach his face but she could definitely reach other things. “They all might get to look but only I get to touch.”

He pretty much melted at the point. “You’re the only one I want touching me.”

 

“So why should I be jealous then?”

 


	20. Dream 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had another dream about the Amalgam!verse. Nota bene: again, this is not how Kitty discovered Ryder and Nightcreeper were the same person. NSFW

White light flooded Kitty’s vision as her body seized and came.  Her muscles tensed, her inner walls clamping down on the cock thrusting inside her while her limbs pulled her lover as close as possible.  As the waves of pleasure died down, her eyes closed and her muscles went limp. Her right slipped away from the scratches she’d made down her partner’s back and in her left something papery crinkled. 

 

Her hips shifted and she realized that the older man was still hard inside her.  Odd, Ryder usually was on a hair trigger and rarely lasted longer than she did, sometimes coming before her.  He made up for it by having an insanely fast recovery time. Either he was learning to restrain himself or he’d come back up while she was still recovering.  “You don’t have to hold back for me,” she breathed.

 

A short pause, then wild laughter filled the air.  Familiar laughter.

 

Kitty’s eyes popped open.  The familiar features of Kurt Ryder loomed over her.  Or were they? Even as she watched, blue eyes changed to yellow between one blink and another, and as his lips spread in an insane grin she saw his teeth elongate and sharpen.  His skin was still pale but was beginning to turn sallow and greenish. Even his hair, normally loose black curls, was turning a verdant shade. He leaned down to peck her on the nose.  “ _ Uberraschung! _ ”

 

For a brief moment, she froze in panic.  When she’d agreed to start dating Ryder, she hadn’t expected to bring Nightcreeper into the equation!  But after a few seconds, she forced her muscles to unwind. This wasn’t Department K. If things got out of hand, she could phase through the bed and the floor and call Logan or Jubilee to pick her up.  And she didn’t really object to the idea of sleeping with Nightcreeper. She’d turned him down when he’d asked her, but only because she had already said yes to Ryder. This would, perhaps, be her only chance to indulge her curiosity over the path not taken.

 

As if waiting for a signal, Nightcreeper slipped his arm behind her back and pulled her up as soon as she relaxed.  The sudden change in position surprised her, causing her to wrap her legs around his waist and dig her nails into his shoulder to keep her balance.  That drove his cock even deeper into her body and brought her front up against his chest. From there, she could feel smooth skin be replaced by velvety fur.  The change in texture stimulated her nipples and her clit and she found herself gasping in arousal again. 

 

She saw his mouth open to let out those bone-breaking chortles again.  “Shut up!” She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down, slamming her lips over his own to swallow the manic roars that characterized the vigilante.  Kitty had no idea how Kurt had managed to conceal his identity from his neighbors but she wasn’t going to be the reason he had to change locations.

 

Despite that, she could feel the rumble of amusement in his chest, but he didn’t fight her, instead adjusting her legs so that she was kneeling over his own.  He gripped her hips and set up a fast pace, the movement rubbing her nipples and clit into the green fur that spontaneously grew. So distracted by the sensation, she barely noticed something else joining in until she felt it poking another lower orifice.

 

She froze up again.  She and Ryder had tried pegging before and while she hadn’t hated it, it hadn’t done much for her either.  Still, Kitty couldn’t know what the differences between Kurt and Nightcreeper were. So she took a deep breath, tensed and then relaxed, allowing...  it must have been his tail to slip into her other opening. For all his mania, he was actually pretty careful, slowing down his thrusts and slowly pushing in, allowing her to adjust.  Sharp teeth pricked her neck in distraction, and he only started thrusting in earnest once she had relaxed again.

 

The sensation was actually quite different and left her moaning.  With both her holes filled, there was a feeling of pressure and fullness that had been missing in her prior experience.  The fur rubbed against her nipples and clit, sending electricity throughout her body. She found herself clinging to her lover, her thighs squeezing him closer and her nails digging into invulnerable flesh.  “You like that, do you?” Kitty bit down on Nightcreeper’s lower lip to silence the madman, and yanked on his shoulder-length hair, smothering the peals of laughter that threatened to disturb the neighbors and break her eardrums.

 

The additional stimulation had her coming even faster than her first orgasm.  As her cunt seized around her lover, she felt Nightcreeper swell, then flood her cervix.  Kitty spent a few minutes trying to get her breath back after the rush. Then she felt more than heard Nightcreeper chuckle.  “Aw, did I tire you out too much,  _ liebchen _ ?”

 

The blonde lifted her head to glare at him.  The transformation was complete, the man’s eyes as gold as old coins, his ears and fangs needle-sharp and covered with green fur the same shade as new grass.  Based on the giggling, her bedroom eyes probably didn’t do much to improve the intimidation factor. Exasperated, she dropped her hands from his hair to his neck and tried to strangle him.  Not that it made any difference, he just laughed louder. “I’m not finished yet.”

 

“Hihihi!  Maybe this time you’ll manage to last the night!”  

She didn’t.

* * *

 

Kitty woke up with her head cradled on someone’s lap.  Opening her eyes, she saw Kurt, back to his baseline human form, softly stroking her hair while he read something on his tablet.  She was sure she hadn’t made any sound to alert him, but after a few minutes he looked down at her, not at all surprised she was awake.  “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” he whispered back.

 

She cleared her throat.  “I don’t suppose you could have told me you were part of the tights-and-spandex club before we started dating?”

 

Pale cheeks flushed red, easily seen above the black shirt he was wearing.  “That would be easier if Nightcreeper was wearing at least that much.” Blue eyes drifted away from hers.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

 

“Why didn’t you?”

 

“I was . . . embarrassed?  It’s one thing to admit you go out and stop crime as a vigilante in your free time.  It’s quite another to say that your alter ego all but strips naked and is one of the people on watch lists for his insanity.”

 

“I feel like an idiot.  I know you’re friends with Dark Claw and I even knew that you knew Logan’s, Jubilee’s and my civilian identities.  It never occurred to me that there might be another reason Logan trusted you with that information.”

 

“Yes, well, Dark Claw was right there when the change first happened.”  When it was clear she wasn’t pulling away, he resumed stroking her hair and put down the tablet.  “He’s also the one who makes the counteragent that keeps me stable and not laughing like a loon all the time.”

 

“That explains how he knows who you are.  But how did you find out about his secret identity?”

 

He shook his head to dismiss the question, causing his loose dark hair to fall over his shoulders and face.  “Nothing special about that, it’s just good investigative skills.”

 

They spent a few more minutes in silence.  But there was one question that had been nagging her that refused to be ignored any further.  “What happened last night? You seemed fine and then suddenly you were green and fuzzy. What triggered the transformation?”

 

He coughed then held his hand out to her.  In it was one of the nicotine patches he used.  “What?”

 

“You probably don’t remember, but you pulled that off during the first round last night.”

 

“This is the counteragent?”  Kurt nodded. “Am I going to get sick?”

 

He snorted, “No, you’ll be fine.  That stuff is completely harmless to normal people.”

 

“I hadn’t realized that Dark Claw was so skilled at biochemistry.”

 

“His Little Lord Faulteroy act is incredibly effective.  He goes around like an airheaded bimbo.”  

 

She laughed a bit at that.  “Logan’s a bit too short to qualify as a bimbo.”  She pulled herself up to lean on his chest. She raised one hand to toy with the loose ends of his dark hair.  “I haven’t forgiven you yet, but I will eventually. In the meantime, could you tell me how you became Nightcreeper.”

 

His breath hitched as she settled on his lap.  “Alright. It all began because I was investigating a gangster meeting down in the Seaport district.”


End file.
